Friends
by AnastasiaDemeter
Summary: Drew's going through tough times. Sheamus is his oldest friend, but is their friendship too dangerous to be maintained? *Slash/Ship* *Mature content* *BDSM Themes*
1. Chapter 1

"Are yeh alright, fella?" Stephen Farrelly gave Drew Galloway a friendly slap on the shoulder and tried to look into his friend's downturned face. Drew gave him a strained smile and nodded. 3MB had just had another inglorious burial at the hands of the Celtic Vipers, or Team Shandy as they were sometimes known, and Stephen was checking in on his fellow Celt's morale. Even though they had followed much the same path, from the UK independent circuit to FCW and now to the WWE's main roster, the Irishman's career had flourished where the Scotsman's had tanked. On top of that Drew had suffered the heartbreaking loss of his mother as well as a lengthy wrist injury, and Stephen had done everything in his power to help keep his friend of many years' spirits up.

Drew himself could be highly mercurial, one minute full of Celtic fighting spirit and the next in the pits of despair. He was frequently on the verge of throwing in the towel with the WWE but then he would remember that he'd worked almost half his life to get where he was, and he wasn't about to give that up. Plus he had the support of not only Stephen but Stu Bennett, who had come through the same circuit they had, only coming to the WWE slightly later. There was also Heath Miller, Stu's NXT comrade and Drew's 3MBandmate who was like a brother to him these days. If it wasn't for the support these and other superstars had given him on the road Drew would have ripped up his contract long since; but the closest of all was Stephen.

Stephen and Drew had travelled the British Isles together, performing. They had swapped the Irish Whip Championship between them. They'd shared homes, hotel rooms, cars, life stories, endless miles, hopes and dreams with each other. Together, they'd made it to the Holy Land of the WWE, and they swore that they would do everything in their power to ensure that they both would make it to the very top. Drew made Intercontinental Champion within a few months and they were delighted. Stephen made WWE and World Heavyweight champion within two years but Drew's career hit the skids. The Irishman played the game, getting into Paul Levesque's good books and becoming firm friends with the Chairman's son-in-law, and that certainly did not hinder his progress up the ladder. Drew, however, was more at home with the troops on the ground, and was well liked by the other superstars, but they had little say in who won titles.

Slowly the gulf between the two began to grow, and they saw less and less of each other. It was nothing either consciously meant, it was simply a matter of time constraints and ranking on the card. Mid-carders did soundbites on WWE Inbox for the YouTube channel, while those at the top of the card did talk shows. It meant that their paths didn't cross so much and when they did catch sight of each other Stephen and Drew were often self-conscious of the disparity. Drew's way of dealing with it was to quietly withdraw and any attempts by Stephen to try and strike up a conversation were usually met with shy hesitancy. Tonight was no different. Drew looked on the verge of slinking off again when Stephen decided that enough was enough.

"Hey- listen, fella. You an' me haven't had a quiet pint fer ages. Whaddy'a say? Just you an' me?" Stephen gave Drew a semi-pleading look and the Scotsman hesitated. It **had** been ages, he couldn't remember the last time they'd spent any time alone together, in public or private. To be honest it left a hole in the pit of his stomach to even look at Stephen these days. Drew swallowed his reservations, smiled and nodded.

Stephen's grin split his pale face. "Great. I'll look yeh up after the show's over." He gave his friend's shoulder another couple of slaps and walked to his dressing room. Drew watched the Celtic Warrior walk away. His face fell as he thought about how much things had changed between them since they'd come to the WWE. They used to be thick as thieves, living practically in each other's pockets; they'd been as good as family. Now, Stephen was on top of the world and Drew was happy for him, but it seemed like he'd been left behind in all the excitement. Sure, Drew had plenty of other friends but none of them were Stephen; they'd shared too much, been on too many adventures together and knew too many of each other's secrets to be anything other than the best of friends.

Drew's fingers played with the bandana hanging from his belt. There was one secret that no one but them knew. That no one but them would ever know, or could ever know. Anyone finding out would mean an end to both their careers. Drew had to be careful around Stephen, because he could betray that secret all too easily. He was too easy to read. His feelings were always too near the surface, especially now when he was in turmoil over his career and the loss of his mother. Maybe he should leave the WWE, and get away from Stephen. Or maybe he should just tell Stephen to stay away from him. It wouldn't be difficult now that they barely saw each other anyway. Perhaps that was the answer. He resolved to give Stephen the ultimatum when they met up for drinks later that night.

After the show was over Stephen showered, changed into street clothes and went to Drew's changing room to head out. He walked in to find the tall Scot talking to Yuvraj Dhesi. The two Band members turned as the Irishman walked in and he nodded at them both with a smile. Drew said "I'll catch you later, Raj", grabbed his bag and the two Celts walked side-by-side to the parking lot.

"Where's yer car, mate?" Stephen asked.

Drew looked at Stephen sideways, then turned his head, embarrassed. "Um, I got a lift in with Heath and Raj. We share a rental."

Stephen gave himself a mental kick. He put on a friendly show "No worries, fella. We'll call fer a taxi." He nabbed a gopher and asked them to arrange a cab for the two of them. The runner got on his radio and the arrangement was made. The two superstars left their bags with the gopher and were soon picked up by an exclusive car hire firm and taken to a bar near to their hotel. They ordered a pint each and found a table where they could sit as unobserved as possible.

"Cheers, fella!" Stephen held up his pint and Drew clinked his glass against it before they brought their respective lagers to their lips. After an appreciative sigh from both Stephen leaned on his elbows as Drew peered into his glass as if scrying for his fortune. The Irishman let his friend ponder for a moment before saying "Anything interesting in there?"

Drew looked up as if he'd forgotten where he was then gave an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, mate. I was miles away." Stephen smiled but Drew's face became tinged with sadness. The Irishman sighed.

"Look, Andrew. I know we haven't had much chance te speak since yer mam's funeral, and even then I didn't get te spend as much time with yer as I wanted." Drew's face fell and his eyes began to shine as tears threatened. Stephen knew how proud his friend was and how much he hated to show emotion, especially in public, so he hurried on: "That's why I asked ye fer a pint. We don't see each other enough these days and I want te make tha' right." Stephen looked earnestly into his friend's face, who was now returning his stare with a wide-eyed look. _Why does he look so surprised?_ thought Stephen. _Have I really been neglecting him that badly? I've left this too long. I need to make this right._ The Irishman leaned in closer and waited for his friend to answer.

Drew was in turmoil. Stephen wanted them to be close again, but that would be testing Drew's resolve. He wasn't sure he could trust himself, not at the moment. So much was going on, he was an emotional wreck. The one thing he wanted most in the world was to put his head on Stephen's broad shoulder and cry his heart out but he didn't dare. He wanted Stephen to put his strong arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. He wanted Stephen they way they used to be, they way they had been those nights back in Ireland…

A flood of memories suddenly overwhelmed Drew in vivid detail, and the emotions they brought up in him could not be suppressed. Without warning Drew's face crumpled, his eyes brimmed with tears, he dropped his head and covered his face with his hands as he began to sob uncontrollably. Stephen was around the table in a flash and took his friend around the shoulders, asking him what was wrong. The strength of Stephen's embrace, the feel of his thigh against his and the sound of his voice, so full of genuine concern, broke Drew down even further and Stephen pulled him to his feet, put his sunglasses on his face and walked him out the back door to their hotel. They made their way to Stephen's room, the Irishman effectively carrying the other by hooking Drew's arm over his shoulders and holding him by the hip. Stephen then set Drew down gently on the bed, poured out a glass of water and handed it to him as he knelt in front of him on the floor.

Drew looked down at Stephen as he took the glass and through his tears he saw the face that he'd fallen in love with so many years ago. The striking blue eyes looked up at him with such heart-melting concern. His pale face framed by that fiery red hair. His pouting lips that were so soft yet could drive him to the brink of madness… Drew slowly set the cup down on the floor, and as he turned his head back towards Stephen he took his face in both his hands, leaned in and kissed him.

Stephen's body tensed at the surprising move but he did not pull away. Drew's lips were as soft as any woman's and he was a phenomenal kisser. He knew exactly how Stephen liked to be kissed and soon Drew's tongue was probing at his lips, asking for entry. Stephen opened his mouth and wrapped his tongue around Drew's, relishing in the taste that he'd not had in such a long, long time. The two wrapped their muscular arms around each other; Stephen noticed just how much bulk Drew had put on since the last time they'd been in an embrace like this. He almost matched him in mass now, where he'd previously been much more slender. Stephen threaded his fingers in Drew's long hair and pulled, drawing a groan from the Scot. If they were going to do this, Drew was going to remember who was the Top here; bulk be damned.

Stephen lifted himself from his knees and pushed Drew onto his back on the bed. He positioned himself over him and looked deeply into the younger man's eyes, giving him a hard stare. Drew's breath came in shallow and quick, looking up at Stephen with an open longing, pleading silently. Drew reached up a hand as if to cup Stephen's cheek but the Irishman snatched his wrist and brought it down to the mattress roughly, pinning it down above Drew's head. He caught his other wrist and pinned it down on the other side in a similar fashion, then straddled Drew's middle and sat on him with all his weight. The Scot had recently suffered an injury to his ribs and the position made him wince and grit his teeth, but the Irishman kept the pressure on and waited for Drew to stop squirming. Eventually, when he'd managed to lie perfectly still, Stephen moved one wrist to his other hand so that both were clasped together and he used his now free hand to unbuckle his belt. He unzipped his fly and freed his cock from his jeans. He shuffled his knees forward and turned his hips towards Drew's face. "Suck it" he said.

Drew took the semi-rigid member into his mouth as Stephen took his weight onto the hand pinning his wrists to the mattress and began thrusting his hips towards his face. He felt Stephen's cock quickly grow stiff as he sucked and licked at it, using his skill with his mouth and the innate knowledge a man has of how to work a dick. Stephen pulled out of Drew's mouth and let him lick and suck at his balls, relishing the way the sensations travelled all the way through his body. He sat back on his knees, climbed off the bed and said: "Take off yer trousers."

Drew reached down to remove the cowboy boots he was wearing first as he would not be able to pull his jeans off over them. He turned his head briefly to see Stephen move to a bedside table. Drew continued to obey his instruction, reaching for his belt and removing his jeans. He laid back on the bed, now wearing only his tee-shirt and boxers. Stephen came back around to the end of the bed with something concealed in his hand. "Since when did yer start wearing kecks, then?"

Drew smiled. For many years he'd made a habit of going commando; apparently Stephen had expected him to still be doing it. He shrugged. "Around the time I got married, I think."

Stephen frowned. Drew's marriage had been a disaster, and he'd been glad to see the back of that bitch. Her getting herself fired had been a blessing, and Stephen gave a quick prayer of thanks for it. "Well get them off. Yer no good te me with those in the way." Drew complied, and threw the offending item on the floor. Stephen looked at him with a stern face. "Turn over. Get on yer hands and knees." The younger man did as he was told and presented his perfectly formed ass towards the Irishman. Stephen admired it for a moment. He really had bulked up; the cheeks were fuller and rounder than ever and Stephen reached a hand out to massage one, feeling the rock-like muscle beneath the smooth skin. He bent down and placed a kiss on the opposite cheek, then took a deep bite, causing Drew to jump forward. Stephen gave him a sharp slap on the ass and pulled him back by the hip before bending down to lick and nip at his cheeks while exploring the crack with his fingers.

Drew reached up and brought a pillow to his face to bite into, and then used it to muffle his moans as Stephen's hand moved between Drew's legs to play with his balls and cock. Drew was torn between wanting to push his hips back towards the hand that was jerking him off and away from the teeth that were nipping at his ass. Eventually Stephen lifted his head and reached for the bottle he'd previously been hiding in his hand. He spread Drew's cheeks and pumped out some clear gel onto the tight ring nestled between them. The Scot gasped at the sudden coldness but let out a low moan as Stephen began to work the gel around using the tip of his cock. Slowly but firmly, Stephen started to push and Drew felt himself open to accept the invading member.

Stephen used short back-and-forth strokes to work the gel in and gradually he managed to sheath himself fully. He then hooked one leg over Drew's and began to pump his hips with rigour. Drew cried out into the pillow to not allow anyone in the next room to hear- it would be a disaster if anyone found out about this. Of course there had been gay superstars in the past but none of them had ever been out. The States were largely homophobic and the average fan rabidly so. Many of the wrestlers were avowed Christians; to be caught with another man would be career suicide. These thoughts flitted through Drew's mind but were quickly pushed aside by the sensations Stephen was creating in him. The Irishman's thick cock pounded in and out of Drew's tight channel, flooding him not only with memories but with feelings that only Stephen could elicit. Stephen himself was working up a sweat and had his eyes closed with the effort. His face shone with the ecstasy he felt at sating a hunger long denied. He knew would not last much longer and could feel Drew falling apart beneath him so he reached around Drew's waist and took hold of his lover's cock, which was hard as iron. He rubbed his fingers in a small jerking motion over the head, massaging it with Drew's own foreskin as he fucked the Scot's ass ferociously, bringing himself to climax. He released himself with a long grunt and Drew clenched his muscles down and came in Stephen's hand, spilling his seed over the mattress. Stephen milked Drew's cock lovingly as he rocked his hips into him a few times, bending over to bury his face in the crook of Drew's shoulder.

"Ah've missed yeh so much, Drew."


	2. Chapter 2

The two Celts spent the night wrapped in each other's arms, recounting stories of times shared back in Ireland. They laughed, kissed and reminisced well into the night before finally falling asleep locked in a warm embrace. When Stephen's alarm went off the next morning he reached over and shut it off with even more annoyance than usual, and Drew leaned in and tightened his grip on the Irishman's waist. Stephen rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"Cm'on, fella. We both need te get to the gym. No rest fer the wicked an' all tha'." Stephen rubbed Drew's back as an enticement. Drew merely snuggled his head deeper into Stephen's shoulder and hummed.

"Yeh always were a champion sleeper. Come on. Get yer arse up!" Stephen gave Drew's ass a slap to emphasise his point and Drew just smiled and gave an appreciative wiggle in response.

"Hmm. I have another kind of workout in mind if you're going to start doing that to me, Stephen" rasped Drew as he moved languidly over the older man's body and began to writhe his hips seductively. Stephen looked up at him, exasperated.

"Dammit, Andrew. Why mus' ye always pick the _worst_ time te start feckin about? We need te get…" His words were lost as Drew leaned down and planted a long, passionate kiss on him. Stephen couldn't resist the onslaught as Drew worked him with both his mouth and his snake-like hips, grinding their cocks together just hard enough to make it excruciatingly magnificent. Stephen was going to make the little cock-tease pay for that. When he was nice and hard he grabbed Drew by the arms and twisted them behind his back. He then lined himself up and began to enter the seductive Scot. It was more difficult as there was only the remnants of the lube left from last night but that was part of the punishment. Drew was going to have to learn to choose his timing better. Drew gritted his teeth and threw his head back as Stephen forced himself in slowly. He began to ride the Irishman's cock, gently easing it in and out, and Stephen released his arms so that Drew could gain greater purchase by holding onto his shoulders.

The young Scotsman bounced his hips in a steady rhythm, finding the angle that would hit his sweet spot and riding Stephen like an untamed bronco. Stephen's face was contorted with the effort of controlling himself from coming too soon, determined to make this last as long as possible. Drew was just too damned good at this and it made him crazy. He was supposed to be a good Irish Catholic boy but this beautiful Scot had bewitched him with his round face, gorgeous eyes and unbridled sexuality. Friendly banter, a shared bed and too much to drink had led to their first encounter over five years ago, and he'd not been able to shake the habit since. He ploughed himself in harder to prove that he was the one in control, and Drew started to unravel.

Stephen reached down and began to stroke Drew's cock. "Come on. This is what ye wanted. Fuckin' come fer me!" He slammed his hips up into Drew's ass and ran his fingers over his rigid member in the same rapid tempo, drawing a mewling cry from the Scot. Drew's eyes screwed tightly shut as he released over Stephen's abs and chest and his muscles contracted over the Irishman's cock, causing him to come deep inside him. The two lay on the bed, spent and panting for breath; Drew sprawled on top of Stephen. Eventually they separated, had a quick rinse in the shower and dressed. Stephen threw on some workout gear and said he was heading straight for the gym. Drew only had his clothes from the day before so said he was going to go to his hotel room first to change. They then looked at each other for a moment in silence, the inevitable question hanging in the air. Stephen took the reigns.

"Look, ah meant wha' ah said yesterday. Ah want us te be mates like we used te be. But if we're going te do this again" he made a sweeping motion with his hand "we need te be careful. Fer both our sakes." He looked at Drew and the Scotsman nodded. Stephen stepped in and gave Drew a soft kiss. "Ah have missed yeh, Drew. And ah'm glad that we've patched tings up between us, because ah couldn't live with meself knowing that yer weren't happy." Stephen touched his forehead to Drew's and the Scot smiled appreciatively, touched knowing that he hadn't been forgotten after all. Stephen ruffled Drew's hair and the two exited the room before parting ways.

Drew let himself into his hotel room and was surprised to see Heath Miller standing there. He expected him to be at the gym. Heath turned and held his arms out wide. "Where the hell you been, man?"

Drew gave him an apologetic look and held his hands out. "Sorry, buddy. I went out for drinks with Stephen yesterday, had a few too many and crashed in his room. I forgot to text you. Really sorry."

Heath looked to the skies and let out a sigh. "I was worried sick. I knew you were with Steve because I called Raj and he told me, but you normally let me know if you're going to be out all night, and then you go and turn your phone off. It's just not like you, man."

"I know. I'm really, really sorry. We just got talking about old times and I lost track. Before I knew it I was half in the bag and Steve had to carry me to his room. It won't happen again."

"Aw, man. I'm not trying to be your old man or nuthin'; I was just worried is all. Are you okay to go to the gym or do you need to sleep it off?"

"No I'm fine. I'll just get changed and we can both go."

The two made their way to the now busy weights room and started their morning workout routine. They gave Stephen a nod each, Heath adding a semi-disapproving shake of the head to which Stephen responded with a good hearted laugh and shrug of his shoulders. Afterwards Drew had breakfast with Heath and Yuvraj, but sat himself where Stephen was in his field of vision without having to turn his head. The Irishman was sharing his meal with Randy Orton but caught Drew's gaze with his own several times while they ate.

All the superstars then packed up their gear and made their way to the arena to ready themselves for that evening's show. Some of the younger superstars filled their time with video games, others made mischief playing pranks on each other. Some of the older vets congregated and reminisced about old glories. The more serious-minded performers set to preparing themselves for the evening's show, mentally and physically. They booted up, discussed major spots with their opponents, and limbered up. Drew decided to squeeze in a light snack before his match and nipped down to catering. He saw Stephen there talking to Stu Bennett. The two looked up and greeted him with a smile. Drew tried to hide his heart skipping a beat and walked up to the pair as casually as possible.

"Well now" boomed Stuart, "Stephen 'ere tells me that you two have renewed your old partnership and are bosom buddies again."

Drew's throat closed and his stomach did a double-flip. What the hell was Stephen thinking telling Stuart about last night? Drew turned his face towards Stephen just as the Irishman was laughing and patting the Englishman on the shoulder.

"That's right. Ah was telling Stu tha' we went out fer a pint last night an' that we're likely te make a regular habit of it. Of course he's tryin' te get in on it; wantin' a piece o' the action fer himself." He laughed and gave Stu's shoulder a couple of hearty slaps while Drew started to breathe again. He managed to smile and give a chuckle himself, and cracked a joke about only letting Stu in if he managed to pry open his wallet and actually buy a round for a change. The Englishman defended himself vigorously, stating that it was the 'Scotch' who were known for being tight with their money, and the three continued with the banter while Drew plated up and Stephen slipped him a raised eyebrow.

After the show many of the superstars chose to travel directly to the next venue, which was several hours' drive away. Drew, Heath and Yuvraj loaded up their rental van and headed out. While they were on the road Drew heard his phone buzz and saw he'd received a message from Stephen asking where he was.

_On the road on way 2 next venue. Where r u?_

_Still at hotel. Was going 2 c if u wanted 2 travel with me. Have my own bus u know._

Drew shut his eyes for a moment while the possibilities swam through his head.

_Sounds brill but don't know how 2 explain it 2 Heath & Raj. Always travel with them._

A couple of minutes later he had a reply.

_I understand. Don't know how 2 get around that 1 either. C u hotel._

Drew sighed.

_Ok. C u then._

Drew put his phone in his pocket and looked out the window.

"Hey man, are you okay?" Yuvraj was looking at him from the front passenger seat.

Drew blinked himself back into the present. "Uh, yeah I'm fine!"

Yvraj frowned. "You just look like you had some bad news or something. You sure you're okay?"

The Scot gave a quick smile to his friend and shook his head. "Look, buddy. Everything's fine. No bad news, just had an offer from Steve to travel in his big, fancy tour bus and I told him I was perfectly happy to slum it with my buddies in a rental van."

Yuvraj and Heath gave a snort each and looked at each other. Heath piped up and looked at Drew in the rear-view mirror. "Yeah well I'm glad you & Steve are friends again and everything, just remember who's been there for you through thick and thin these last two years." Drew nodded and the three touched knuckles in a 3MB salute before Drew looked back out the window and Heath turned up the radio to blare Guns 'N Roses' _Sweet Child O' Mine_.

They reached their hotel in the small hours of the morning and Drew collapsed on his bed exhausted. He'd not exactly had much sleep in the last 24 hours and the physical toll of two shows, a long drive plus two energetic lovemaking sessions finally caught up with him. He peeled his clothes off, leaving only his boxers, crawled under the sheets, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The next morning Heath almost resorted to jumping up and down on the bed to get him to wake up and Drew found a text from Stephen on his phone inviting him to his room about an hour after he'd gone to sleep. Drew sent an apologetic reply and Stephen responded saying it was alright, he'd slept like a log himself and appreciated the chance to catch up on his z's. They made plans to go for drinks that night, and Drew managed to get out of bed feeling more than ready to face the day.

After the show Drew, Stephen, Stu, Heath and Yuvraj all headed out to an Irish-themed pub in the city. The plan was to have a swift couple there before 3MB moved on to hit the clubs. Stephen got the first round in and made his way to the table gingerly carrying the tray, trying and failing not to spill the precious amber liquid. Stuart shook his head as he lifted his glass from the soggy tray.

"You'll never make a barmaid" he said as he sipped his drink and placed it on a coaster, wiping his damp fingers on his trouser leg. The others laughed and took their dripping glasses from Stephen, who grimaced and shrugged his broad shoulders. They all touched cups to a hearty "Cheers!" and settled in to their seats.

"So what made you want to be best buddies with Drew again, Steve?" Heath took a drink and watched for a reaction to his question over the rim of his glass. The others in the group also looked to the Celtic Warrior to see how he would react to the rather forward query. Drew looked to the other redhead in surprise.

"Heath, c'mon man…" but before he got far, Stephen cut in with a conciliatory hand.

"No, Drew, it's aright." Stephen turned to the Southerner. "Heath ah'm not trying ter step inter yer spot er nuthin. I know you've been like a brother ter Drew these last few months, an' I appreciate everything yer've done fer 'im. Ah wish ah could've done more fer 'im meself, but ah'm glad you were there fer 'im instead. And that's the reason ah'm tryin' ter get tings back te how they was, because ah know ah wasn't there fer 'im when ah should've been."

Heath's eyes dropped from Stephen's as the Irishman spoke, and when he'd finished the other man gave him an accepting nod and placed a hand on Drew's shoulder. Yuvraj, lightening the mood, cracked a joke about Drew now just needing somebody to launder his ring gear for him and he'd be all set. The group laughed and settled into a more easy conversation, Stuart taking jabs at Heath's 'vicious mutt' and Heath retaliating with jokes about Stu's broken nose and large ears. The gang enjoyed a couple more drinks before the Band decided to hit a Rock club they'd been tipped as being worth a visit. They also had to tape a quick Tout or two for promotional purposes. They gave their video guy a quick call to meet them at the club and arranged a taxi. Drew gave Stephen a quick nod and got one in return, and the trio headed off into the night.

At the club the threesome were virtually attacked by fans, and they gladly signed autographs and posed for photos. Drew was the focus of attention for quite a few women and he fended them off with the benefit of years of practice. They got their Touts recorded and were headed out into the night when a couple of women approached them.

"3-M-B bay-bayyyyyyyyy!" squealed one of the women, holding her arms up and pointing to the sky. Her friend seemed more shy but was obviously keen to meet the group. The trio turned to welcome them; Heath smiling and speaking to them first.

"Well hello, ladies. What's your names?"

The more outgoing one spoke first. "I'm Peggy and this is Amy. We're **huge** fans of yours. We **love** you guys!" She swayed back and forth, hands clasped together under her chin and her friend giggled coyly.

"Well we love you too, Peggy and Amy!" laughed Yuvraj. "We love all our 3MB Bandwagon members."

Amy looked at Yuvraj and looked like she was about to faint. "Do you really mean that?" she said, breathlessly.

He looked her directly in the eye, and said in an even tone: "I mean it. Really."

The effect of his words could not have been more pronounced. Amy went straight up to him, placed a hand on his arm and said: "I really do love you, Jinder. I have ever since you joined 3MB. I don't know why I didn't see it before, but you have something special. You're so handsome, and so skilled, and the way you do that high knee-lift…" Her eyes were shining as she spoke to him as if she were looking at a Demi-God. Yuvraj put his hand over hers, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it gently. Amy visibly shivered and he looked to his two Bandmates.

"Amy and I are going to head back to the hotel. You two don't mind, do you?"

Heath & Drew smiled & shook their heads no. Yuvraj was single and entitled to the occasional rat if was so inclined. Peggy turned her head from her friend towards Drew.

"Well, Jinder's going to have some fun tonight. What about you?" She smiled an open invitation, which he was just about to parry when a sudden plan came to mind.

"You know what, that sounds like a grand idea." Drew smiled and kissed her hand in the same way Yuvraj had her friend's, and the group hired a taxi minivan back to their hotel. Heath made his way back to the room he shared with Drew, leaving the Scot to book another to share with his new friend. Yuvraj had already made arrangements for his room-mate to make himself scarce so he and Amy made their way up, leaving Drew & Peggy at Reception. On their way to the desk Drew turned to her and said: "Um, before we get too far can I just ask you if you're clean?"

Peggy stopped in her tracks and stared at him, wide-eyed. "_Excuse me?_"

Drew held his hands up. "Oh I'm not asking about drugs. I'm not into all that. I just need to check about STDs and stuff. I mean I have Hep C because of the blood matches I've had but I don't want to catch anything else…"

Peggy's eyes went even wider "You have **what**?"

"Hepatitis C. A lot of the wrestlers have it. It's quite common because of the blood that gets swapped in hardcore matches. If I use a johnny you should be safe, but I need to know if you have herpes or AIDS or anything like that."

Peggy stood there a moment, speechless, then without another word she stormed off, leaving Drew standing in the foyer. He watched her leave and said, nonchalantly: "Was it something I said?" He smiled, turned, and made his way to Stephen's room.


	3. Chapter 3

"Yeh told her _what_?" Stephen's voice was incredulous but he was laughing nonetheless. Drew laughed too and nodded his head.

"I told her I had Hep C but didn't want to catch AIDS so asked her if she was 'clean'. She looked like she was about to pop!" The two, who were lying on the bed in Stephen's hotel room, collapsed into fits of laughter. Stephen wiped at his eyes.

"Oh Drew, yer a wrong 'un!" He looked up at the young Scot with a loving smile and shook his head. Drew returned the look with a smile of his own, knowing that he would be forgiven. He'd done it to give himself an alibi for the night. Heath and Yuvraj would now assume that he was spending the night with a hook-up. They need never know she'd been tossed aside so that he could be with Stephen instead. His efforts were rewarded as Stephen reached over, ran his fingers through Drew's long, silken hair, then pulled him close and brought his mouth to his own. Stephen ran his tongue over Drew's soft lips then explored the Scot's warm mouth. Drew accepted Stephen's probings and returned the kiss, cupping his ginger head with his hand.

Stephen turned and pushed Drew downwards so that the Scotsman was lying on his back, and they continued to kiss passionately while Stephen's hand began to work its way under Drew's shirt and caress his muscular abs and chest. Drew let out a soft moan into Stephen's mouth as he rubbed his fingers gently over his nipples, teasing them. Stephen then turned his hips towards Drew's and rubbed himself against him. Drew obligingly began snaking his hips and Stephen lifted his leg to place his thigh over Drew's groin, and they both writhed against each other on the bed, fully clothed yet pleasuring each other.

Drew reached up and removed his shirt, then reached over to pull Stephen's off. The Irishman allowed himself to be stripped and leaned over to explore Drew's taut pecs with his mouth. He traced circles around each nipple with the tip of his tongue and Drew sucked in his breath through clenched teeth while pulling at the bright red hair on the back of Stephen's head. Stephen then kissed the nape of Drew's neck and rubbed the growing bulge of his jeans with his free hand. The Scotsman's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he rubbed his hip against Stephen's groin, feeling that he, too, was growing in anticipation.

Drew reached a hand down to unbuckle his belt and fumbled to unbutton his jeans while Stephen continued to fondle him, and together they slid his pants and boxers down to expose his straining length. Stephen stroked the shaft languidly and Drew threw his head back, clenching his teeth and biting back a moan. The Irishman slid a finger beneath his balls to rub at Drew's perineum and the sensation caused him to squirm as if he were in pain; but this was an exquisite torture that he did not want to stop, ever. Stephen turned his hand to cup Drew's balls, fondled them gently, then moved his hand back up and down the shaft. Drew looked into his eyes and Stephen leaned in to kiss him deeply as he continued to stroke. When he brought his head up he looked sternly at Drew and said "My turn."

Stephen released Drew's cock and turned so that he was flat on his back and placed his hands behind his head. Drew unbuckled Stephen's belt and undid his jeans, then pulled them and his jockeys down while Stephen lifted his hips. Drew then positioned himself above Stephen's thighs, and took the pale member into his hand. He began to stroke it gently, using a drop of saliva as lubricant, teasing the head with the occasional flick of his tongue. Stephen watched but kept his hands behind his head, his face stoic. He was determined to maintain control but Drew was just as determined to get him to break down.

Drew prided himself on being an exceptional lover and could drive anyone wild- even the Celtic Warrior. He hadn't set out to seduce his friend, if anyone had suggested the idea he would have said they were barking mad. Yet that night when they'd had a skin full and were sharing a bed Stephen's taunts about his virility had somehow turned into a challenge; one that Drew had won. Well, he'd gotten his 'straight' friend to have sex with him and he counted that as a victory. Drew himself had never been with a man before either, and had never considered himself to be overtly gay; but Stephen's taunts combined with the alcohol and their closeness had made him bold. He found himself using the same tricks he used to turn on women, combined with what he knew worked on himself, and found that it actually worked. He may have been the one on the receiving end of their lovemaking but he found that it was no bad thing; Drew loved the kick he got out of driving Stephen wild by sucking him off and the feel of the Irishman's cock on his prostate was mind-blowing. All of this was enhanced a hundredfold by the close bond they shared by being such close friends. They had a camaraderie that could only be forged by the countless hours spent in each other's company, sharing each other's grinding toil and ascent to glory.

The young Scot channelled his intuitive skill and genuine desire to please his partner as he manipulated the growing member, feeling the subtle responses to know what was working and focussing attention there. Stephen's face betrayed him as his eyes began to close and roll back, and his breathing began to become more erratic. Drew encased the head of Stephen's cock with his mouth, sucking gently and running his tongue around it before moving away to stroke the shaft again. He watched the Irishman's face and saw that his tactics were having the desired effect; Stephen's eyes were now closed and he was breathing heavily through his nose. Drew smiled and leaned down to take his cock completely in his mouth, sucking with steady pressure as he moved up and down Stephen's length. The Irishman broke and brought a hand down to place on the back of Drew's head, guiding him as he travelled along the shaft. Stephen opened his mouth in a silent groan and opened his eyes narrowly to watch himself get sucked off, and moved Drew's long tresses out of the way so he could have a full view.

Drew started to pick up the pace, and could feel Stephen start to reach his peak. He knew the Irishman would try and stave off coming as long as possible but Drew had more than one trick up his sleeve. He got a steady rhythm going with his head then slipped a finger down to Stephen's perineum just as been done to him earlier. It was like pulling a trigger and the Irishman came almost immediately, releasing his load deep down Drew's throat. He was forced to swallow before Stephen had even finished due to the sheer volume, but he milked him gently with his mouth and one hand, draining every drop. He then lifted his head and caught Stephen's gaze before swallowing again and the Irishman placed a hand on Drew's cheek, rubbing his thumb over his lips. Drew smiled and kissed the palm of Stephen's hand before crawling up to nestle under his arm.

"Dammit, Drew; ah don't know how ye do tha'" Stephen said breathlessly. "Ah feel bad 'cause yeh didn't get anyting."

Drew smiled. "That's alright, mate. You can jerk me off once you catch your breath."

The next morning Stephen's alarm went off and it was Drew's turn to be grumpy. "I swear te God one day I'm going te throw tha' fucker against thee wall. Cannae ye no at least change thee tone on tha' bastard thing?"

Stephen switched the alarm off and laughed at his friend while he ruffled his hair. "If it makes ye stop speaking with an American accent, ah'm keepin' it."

Drew glowered at him. "I dinnea unnerstand how nae fucker kin figger oot wha' I sayin', but ye can carry on in ye Brogue an' erry fucker's fallin' all o'er theeselves fer it!"

Stephen laughed. "Ah've had te tone mine down an' all, fella. An' if I get one more bahstard askin' me where ah've put me feckin' Lucky Charms…!" The two laughed and reluctantly rolled out of bed, had a quick shower each, and made their separate ways.

Drew went to his room, saw Heath was already gone, changed into some workout gear, then made his way to the gym. When he got there he saw Heath and Yuvraj in deep conversation and they turned to face him. Drew got the distinct impression something was wrong as Heath had a look of confusion while Yuvraj looked ready to spit nails. He walked up to the pair and said "He guys, what's up?"

Yuvraj raised his eyebrows and replied "I was hoping that you would tell me. What the _hell_ happened between you and Peggy last night?"

Drew's breath caught in his throat. "Um, what do you mean?"

The other man rolled his brown eyes as he tried to control his temper. "I was right on the verge of getting into it with Amy when all of a sudden her phone starts ringing non-stop. Peggy's hysterical because apparently you told her you have some horrible disease and basically accused her of having AIDS or something." Yuvraj looked at Drew with his hands outstretched, indicating that he expected an explanation and Drew's mind worked frantically, trying to come up with one. He held his own hands up in a calming gesture.

"Whoa, man. Hang on. That's **not** what happened. She's twisting this all up. All I did was ask her if she had any STD's so I knew whether or not I needed to use a rubber and she completely flipped out on me. She got the complete wrong end of the stick, and is obviously a bit of a drama queen. I'm really sorry she ruined your night, I didn't know she was going to call her friend, and would have tried to stop her if I knew."

Yuvraj took a deep breath and shook his head but seemed to be calming down a bit. Heath frowned. "But… sorry to ask this, man… where _were_ you last night if you weren't with that girl?"

Drew blinked and flapped his hands as he struggled for an answer. "One of the other girls we'd been talking to last night saw the bust-up between me and Peggy in the foyer and came over. I decided one rat was as good as another, so I took up her offer." He shrugged and hoped that his patchy story would hold enough water to cover his tracks, at least for now. His bandmates looked at him, then at each other, and shook their heads.

"Man I will never understand how you make women just appear out of thin air" said Heath.

"Yeah, try to let the rest of us get a piece of the action once in a while" said Yuvraj, bitterly. "We're not always happy just picking up your scraps, you know."

Drew looked at Yuvraj sadly and raised his palms towards him. "Raj, man, what can I say to you? I know you don't believe me but it can be a major hassle sometimes. The stuff that I get sent on twitter sets my teeth on edge, let alone the harassment I get in real life."

Yuvraj did not look convinced. "Yeah, well I'd be willing to give it a try to see for myself just how 'bad' it is."

Drew sighed. "Trust me, it loses its novelty value pretty fucking quickly. Most of these birds are pig-ugly, anyway. Yuvraj shook his head but a smile flickered across his face and Drew put an arm across his shoulders. The three shared a quick laugh and got on with the business of the day. Drew made a point of staying clear of Stephen because he could not afford to make another mistake. He sent a quick text in explanation and the Irishman agreed that it was probably a good idea to lie low for a while to avoid another near-miss like that. They were both heading back to their respective homes after the show taking place that night anyway so they agreed their next meeting could wait. They maintained a professional distance and by chance did not cross paths for the rest of that day.

As Drew, Heath and Yuvraj all lived in different cities they dropped off the rental and flew home the next morning. Drew was held up in the airport; yet another round of answering a million questions regarding his visa. He swore that some jobsworth had put a note on his file to ensure that he got stopped and questioned on every single flight just to ruin his day. When he finally managed to make it home he threw his bag on the floor and himself on the sofa. He lay there for a few minutes letting the weariness melt from his bones when he heard his phone buzz. He pulled it from his pocket and saw a message from Stephen.

_Got home & found girlfriend going away to visit family. Want some company?_

Drew suddenly didn't feel so tired. He typed out a response.

_Sounds great. When can u get here?_

It was a three-hour drive from St. Augustine to Tampa and Stephen made good time, aided by a sports car and the incentive waiting for him at the other end. They ordered takeout and cracked open a couple of beers. They watched some television as they ate but talked over it and Drew gave Stephen the story of the nightmare he'd had at the airport.

"Ah don' know why yer get such a hassle wit airlines, fella. I swear they think yer a terrorist." Stephen shook his head and took a swig of lager. Drew scoffed.

"They must all be fans of Taryn's" he said, morosely, taking a bite of seafood.

Stephen looked at his friend and sighed. "You mustn't dwell on her, mate. She's ancient history."

Drew snorted. "Yeah well I get all sorts of reminders about how she 'beat the shit out of me' on my twitter feed ever since she signed on with TNA." He stabbed at his food with his fork in frustration.

Stephen put his can down, moved to sit next to his friend and put his arm around his shoulders. "Look, Andrew. Yeh can't let bad memories hold yeh back. Yeah, people are going te talk shite but they don't know wha' really happened. Nobody knows the truth except yeh and her and yeh know in yer heart tha' yeh did the right thing." Drew pursed the corners of his mouth, looked at Stephen, and nodded. The Irishman gave his friend a squeeze and said "Come on, cheer up. We've got the place te ourselves, jus' like old times. Let's make the best of it, eh?"

Drew looked sideways at Stephen and a sly grin spread across his face. Stephen took the tray of food away from him and set it on the table. Drew decided that he was hungry for something else and leaned in to assault Stephen's mouth with his own, forcing him backwards and pinning him to the sofa. Stephen smiled through the onslaught and grabbed roughly at Drew's ass. They ground their hips together and wrapped their tongues around each other's, feeling a need that was immediate and urgent.

Stephen grabbed for Drew's belt buckle and fly and Drew did likewise with Stephen's fastenings. They stripped each other and Stephen lifted Drew up and manoeuvred him so that he was kneeling on the sofa, bent over the back. He spread Drew's cheeks and spit onto the puckered ring between them, and positioned himself behind. The Irishman rubbed the head of his cock around, gathering up the saliva deposited on Drew's ass, and then lined himself up at the tight entrance. He gave a slow, steady push, allowing Drew to acclimatise, then when he felt the young Scot relax he began short, regular strokes which grew in depth as Drew's ass became more accommodating. Drew had the back of the sofa in a death grip and squeezed his eyes shut as the pain slowly gave way to pleasure, but soon he was able to let go and began to match Stephen's rhythm, rocking himself back on his knees.

The two Celts bucked against each other, building quickly to a frenzied tempo. Stephen gripped Drew's hips tightly with his large, strong hands and Drew flipped the long hair out of his eyes and it fell over his shoulders and down his back. The two men growled as their need quickly built to a peak and Stephen pulled Drew to his hips and held him in place as he emptied himself deep within him. He then reached both hands around, placing one gently at Drew's throat and the other over his cock. He lifted Drew so that he was upright, draped along Stephen's body as he jerked Drew's cock and the Scotsman soon came, crying out the Irishman's name.


	4. Chapter 4

Sunlight filtered through the window of Drew's bedroom the next morning, slowly growing in intensity as the morning wore on. The two muscular Celts tried their best to ignore it and largely succeeded, sleeping wrapped in each other's arms much later than usual. Eventually the brightness of the Florida sun became too much and they drowsily approached consciousness, but neither were yet willing to leave the comfort of either the bed or the other's embrace. Instead they made do with gentle caresses, nestling together facing away from the intrusive sunlight which had woken them, and exchanging kisses. In time both were wide awake and very much enjoying the chance to take all the time they wanted exploring each other's bodies when a familiar, booming voice suddenly rang through the room.

"What the cunting **fuck** are you two doing?"

Drew and Stephen very nearly leapt out of their own skins, whirling around in unison to see Stu Bennett standing at the door of the bedroom, a look of horror on his face. Suddenly Drew remembered, all too late, that he'd arranged to meet with Stuart today to help him choose a new car; and that the Englishman had a key to his door. He'd obviously arrived and let himself in, assuming that Drew was still asleep and come to wake him up. Well, he'd caught him still in bed all right. Stephen was raising his hands and went to get up, but then realised he was stark naked and sat back in the bed, pulling the cover back over himself.

"Now, Stuart, listen mate. Ah know wha' this looks like, just hear us out."

"What this _looks_ like?" said Stu incredulously. "It looks like you two bloody well carrying on like a couple of poofters is what it fucking looks like!" Stuart's face was screwing up like there was a distinctly foul smell in the room, and he was shaking his head and starting to back away. Drew spoke up.

"Stuart. Listen te me. I know this is a shock te ye an' I'm sorry you had te find oot this way. Ye have te unnerstand that this is something that cannea get oot beyond this room or Stephen an' I have had it. It'll be oor heads on spikes an' ye know it. Please tell me ye would'nae do that te us, Stu."

The Englishman stopped and considered Drew's words. His eyes lowered and he stood there for some time before looking back and forth between the two of them and finally nodding. Drew & Stephen both sighed in relief. Drew thanked him. "Stu, yer a good man. Why dinnea ye pop the kettle on fer us all an' Stephen an' me'll be doon in a tic?" Stuart grimaced but turned to go to the kitchen.

Stephen rubbed his hands through his hair and turned to Drew. "Jaysus Christ, man. What in the blue fuck are we going to do now?"

Drew looked at him and shook his head. "Stu's a good bloke. He's just in shock; let's just go and try talking to him, aye?"

The two got out of bed and quickly dressed. They went to the kitchen where Stuart had made up a pot of tea and was pulling three mugs out of the cupboard. Stephen went to the fridge to get the milk and Drew dug out some cookies to go with it. The three settled in with their drinks and nibbled in an awkward silence until Stephen sighed and addressed Stuart.

"Listen, Fella. Ah'm glad yer bein' a good sport about all this. It means a lot to us, so it does."

Stuart wrinkled his crooked nose as if that bad smell had returned. "Don't thank me yet; I'm not sure what to think about all this. Christ on a bike, I've known you two for years and never would have dreamed…" He visibly shuddered and made a sound of disgust. The two Celts looked at each other and Drew spoke next.

"Listen, mate. It's not something that either of us imagined, either. It just sort of happened; and after it did we found that it really meant something to us and we wanted it to carry on."

Stuart gave a short, dry laugh. "Oh you two have been carrying on, all right. Carry On Camping, the pair of you!" The Englishman shook his head and took a drink of his tea. He looked at the other two men. "So how long _have_ you two been carrying on, then?"

Drew looked at Stephen, who sighed and answered: "Our first time was back in Ireland when we were in Irish Whip Wrestling. Tha' would have been…" he did a quick mental calculation "just over five years ago, now."

Stuart's eyes went wide with shock. "Are you bloody kidding me? Five flipping **years**?! I've known the two of you the whole time…" His words trailed off as the realisation dawned on him and he fell into silent contemplation, the hand holding his mug dropping to his waist. The other two remained silent as well, allowing their friend time to mull on his thoughts while they gathered their own. Their fate now lay very much in his hands; if he chose to expose them their careers would be curtailed. Of course the law would prevent them from being outright fired solely for their sexuality but there was always an out for getting rid of unwanted talent. Underbooking, being used merely as fodder to put over other wrestlers; there were plenty of ways of demoralising a man to the point where he decided to walk out on his own, or else simply tuck him out of the way until his contract expired.

Eventually Stuart lifted his eyes and spoke earnestly to the other two men, pointing a finger in emphasis. "Look, I'm not into all this shirt-lifting stuff but if the two of you are happy stuffing each other then it's none of my business. I just don't want to hear about it and I sure as hell don't want to bloody see it! So just keep it between yourselves and let's not have any more discussion about it, alright?"

Stephen straightened up and held his hands out. "Hey, fella, we managed te keep ya in the dark fer five years. I think we can manage te keep schtum." Stuart frowned but looked between Stephen, who risked a shy smile, and Drew and reluctantly nodded. The three, exercising the great talent of the British Isles of sweeping aside awkward emotion, agreed to go out for breakfast before shopping for Stuart's new car. They then headed out and spent the day without mentioning another word of the incident that morning, although both Drew and Stephen made a conscious decision not to make even casual physical contact with either Stuart or each other. Stuart turned down the offer of staying for a takeout dinner but said he'd see the two of them soon enough when they were back on the road.

Back at his house Drew held the door open for Stephen and the Irishman flopped down onto the sofa while the young Scot pulled two beers out of the fridge, opened them, and handed one to his lover. Stephen took it and nodded but his face was pained. Drew himself felt a tension in the room, knowing that the cat had been tucked back into the bag but its tail may yet be hanging out. They drank in silence for awhile until Drew couldn't bear it anymore and went to place his hand on Stephen's thigh. He was met with resistance and was hurt to see the Irishman shake his head and pull away.

"What's up, Steve?" he said, incredulously.

The older man looked back at Drew unsympathetically and replied: "Dammit, Andrew. We got caught red-handed today. If it had been anyone, _anyone_ bar Stu we'd be up the creek right now. Can't ye understand tha'?" He shook his head and took a long swig of his lager.

Drew's face fell and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "So what are ye sayin', Stephen? One wee fright an'yer set te runnin'? Ye figgerin' on leaving us high an' dry like before? Fine. Off ye go then. Just dinnea come back, as I will nae be takin' ye in again." Drew stood and strode off but was quickly caught up by Stephen, who grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around and look him dead in the eyes.

"Whoa, hang on there, fella. I said nothin' about leavin'." He took a deep breath, lowered his head, then raised his eyes back up to Drew's. "Look, ah'm sorry. Yer right, ah shouldn't have pulled away like tha'. Ah was just spooked about getting caught by Stu this mornin' an' it's got me scared of me own shadow. Ah shouldn't take it out on yeh an' ah'm sorry." He pulled Drew into an embrace but it took the Scot a few moments before he would allow himself to return it. His defences were up and it took a few minutes of gentle encouragement before he brought them down again. Stephen stood with his arms wrapped around Drew, rubbing his back and whispering in his ear that everything was going to be alright. The Scotsman's jaw was clenched in an effort to stop the lump in his throat from turning into tears and he could feel the tension in his back under Stephen's hand. Slowly, Drew started to breathe more deeply and his muscles began to relax.

He leaned into Stephen and nestled his face into the crook of the Irishman's neck, who brought up a hand to brush aside his hair and massage the back of his neck. He placed a kiss on Drew's temple and pulled his body in closer. Drew lifted his head and Stephen kissed him deeply, holding him tightly around the waist and shoulders. They stood in a close-fitting embrace, kissing passionately, until finally breaking apart for air and looking intensely into each other's eyes. Drew's shone as he looked into those of the man who'd had such an impact on his life.

"I love you, Stephen."

He swallowed as the words hung in the air, wondering how the Irishman would react. He was leaving himself vulnerable and that was the one thing he hated most in the world. He waited with his heart in his mouth as Stephen looked at him, face unreadable, then reached up a hand to stroke Drew's cheek with a feather light tenderness.

"Ah love yeh too, Andrew."

Drew hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath until he inhaled deeply at hearing Stephen's words. He smiled lovingly at Stephen, who did likewise, and the two re-established their embrace with renewed vigour. Their arms, bodies and tongues entwined as they strove to achieve the most surface area contact they could possibly manage. Stephen dragged Drew backwards towards the sofa, but being blindly encumbered by each other as they were they stumbled and fell to the floor. One horizontal surface was deemed as good as another and the two hurriedly began stripping themselves and each other. Stephen ended up on top of Drew, who was on his stomach, one knee either side of Drew's hips. He leaned down to lick at the join of Drew's neck and shoulder, before taking the sensitive spot in his teeth and holding it firmly. Drew sucked in his breath as Stephen bit firmly enough to hold Drew's attention but just shy of breaking the skin. He then let go and began trailing a line of kisses down the Scotsman's spine, working all the way down to his firm buttocks. He kneaded the strong muscles in his large hands before spreading Drew's thighs apart and lowering his head to lick at his perineum. Drew gasped and his head shot up at the sensation. Stephen had never pleasured him like this and it was amazing. The feel of that large, rough tongue at the base of his balls drove him to the edge and he lifted his hips as a moan escaped his lips.

Stephen was discovering the fun of driving Drew wild and was determined to pay him back for all the times he'd broken his control. He threaded an arm under Drew's leg and flipped him onto his back before repositioning himself between his thighs, pinning the Scot down, and taking the now rock-hard cock in his mouth. Drew's back snapped into a perfect arch and he clawed at his own hair as Stephen worked his mouth up and down the shaft in a steady rhythm. The sight of that bright red hair bobbing up and down was almost enough in itself to set him off, but when Stephen brought his other hand up to gently fondle Drew's balls as he worked the Scotsman lost all control and he shot his hot load into the Irishman's mouth. Stephen was surprised at the sudden release but he instinctively swallowed and was not dissatisfied by the taste. When Drew was finally spent Stephen looked down at the prone Scotsman and gave him a face-splitting grin.

….

NB: 'Carry On Camping' is the name of a popular English comedy film from 1969


	5. Chapter 5

_Sincerest apologies for it taking so long getting this next chapter to you. Suffice it to say that life simply got in the way. NB: I had a PM saying that someone was having problems posting reviews. If anyone else is having the same problem please could you let me know via PM and I will see if I can contact the site and get the problem rectified. Many thanks -Ana _

Drew sat in the executive Coaches Club of the Metlife Stadium looking out at a sea of 80,000 wrestling fans. It was the biggest night of the year for the WWE, WrestleMania. The set, comprised of a mock Brooklyn Bridge and Statue of Liberty, towered over all and made quite an impressive sight. A lump formed in his throat as he knew that he would not be making his way down the long entrance ramp this year. His spirits quickly lifted as he heard the lyrics "**It's a shame that they lost their head**" blast through the arena and the reaction it elicited from the crowd. Stephen was the first Superstar to make an appearance on the main show and the Scot was proud of his lover. The Celtic Warrior was part of a six-man tag-team match along with Randy Orton and The Big Show against the Shield in the opening bout and Drew was excited to see the match. The Scotsman had competed against Colby Lopez in NXT, in fact it was one of those matches that had given Drew his broken wrist. He tried not to dwell on the fact that the young Superstar was now headlining PayPerViews above him; jealousy never got anyone far. He chose instead to be happy for his colleagues and just work as hard as he could to show his own worth for a spot alongside them every chance he got.

Heath and Yuvraj were sat next to him, also watching the match with interest. Yuvraj had actually competed with Colby for the NXT title, and he had a sour look on his face. Drew made a point of engaging him in conversation and recalling funny stories about Lopez and Joe Anoa'i from the NXT locker room. Soon the three were laughing and enjoying themselves, and became engaged in what shaped up to be an excellent match. When the combatants were making their way towards the back Drew excused himself, saying he was going to give Stephen a hard time for being even more luminescent than his neon-green trunks. The others laughed as the Scotsman made his way to the changing rooms. He eventually made it just as the Irishman was coming out of the shower. It was not a private room so Drew plonked himself onto a bench and smiled mischievously as he said "So were you _supposed_ to look like a gorilla on sleeping pills during that match or is that a new gimmick you're pitching?"

Stephen threw the younger man a look and followed it up with a wet towel. Drew laughed. "Nah, seriously, mate. It was a cracking match. Really, all of you did bloody well." Drew looked around the room and got nods of acknowledgement from the other participants who were present. He shook hands with Colby and the two exchanged words of encouragement and mutual appreciation. When the younger superstar moved off Drew turned to Stephen. "I understand your lass is here with you."

The Irishman raised his eyes but not his head. "Yeah, her an' her fam'ly. She was really chuffed te come an' see us perform tonigh'. We're all headin' out after the show, but ah can' be stayin' out late wha' with Raw tomorrow an' all tha'."

Drew nodded. "Oh I understand. I'm sure you'll all have a grand time. I'm not going out tonight. I'm having a few bevvies during the show but I'll go straight to the hotel after that. I actually **do** have a match tomorrow and you know the crowd's always wild the night after Mania!"

The two laughed. Stephen widened his eyes briefly as he remembered the crowd in Miami last year. "Aye, they can be mental, that lot! And with us being in Jersey, yeh can pretty much guarantee a hot crowd! But that's how ah likes 'em!" Stephen gave a broad grin and finished tying his shoes. He threw his dirty kit into his bag and the two made their way back up to the skybox to watch the rest of the show. When they entered they made their way to the bar and caught the eye of Stu Bennett, who had lost his Intercontinental championship in the preshow. He gave them a nod but the look on his face made it clear that he disapproved of them being in each other's company. Drew's face fell but Stephen gave the Englishman a stern look in return, then turned his back on him and ordered two lagers. When he noticed the look on the Scotsman's face he said, quietly "Hey, listen, fella. Don't let tha' prick get yeh down. He can' tell us we can' have a pint together."

Drew looked into those blue eyes, so sincere and so clear. "I would love to think that way, Stephen; but what if he says something…"

The Irishman shook his head "We can' live in fear. Ah told yeh ah love yeh an' ah'm gonna stan' by tha'. Ah know ah have te cover up with havin' a girlfriend an' pretendin' tha' we're just mates but… yeh do understan' why ah'm doin' it, dontcha?"

Drew looked into Stephen's perfect eyes again and, swallowing the lump in his throat, nodded. He understood all too well. He knew that it would probably serve him well to get himself a long-term girlfriend as a cover as well; but after what had happened with Taryn… He pushed the thought from his mind and decided to cross that bridge when he came to it. He was content for now to make do with the occasional hook-up and grab every opportunity with Stephen he could with both hands. The spell of the moment was broken by the barman arriving with their drinks and they moved away from the bar. Heath had saved Drew's seat but Stephen had to find his own vantage point. Some time later the young Scot casually scanned the room to see where his lover was and spotted him having words with Stuart. They weren't being aggressive with each other but he could sense there was tension. He prayed fervently that they would come to a friendly resolution, and decided not to add fuel to the fire by getting involved.

When the show was over Drew congratulated the participants of various matches, bade goodnight to the rest, and made his way to his hotel room. He was bunking alone tonight as most of the other wrestlers had their wives or girlfriends with them, and the singletons were always hopeful of picking up a ring-rat if not outright booking a high-end call girl if they felt flush enough. He tried, and failed, not to feel sad at the thought of Stephen spending the night with his girlfriend. He knew it was a necessary evil, one that would vouchsafe both their careers. Anyway, he'd spent much of the last few days doing photocalls with the fans and he always liked to put on a show. He'd effectively been in-character for hours at a stretch and that character was a hyperactive kid after too much sugar. He was on the post-Mania slide and if he was going to be at his best for Raw tomorrow he really should get a good night's rest. He was just pulling off his shirt when he heard a knock at the door. He went, opened it, and froze to the spot when he saw the Chairman Vince McMahon stood there.

"Hello, Drew" he said in a low, raspy voice.

Drew swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. "Mr McMahon." It barely registered above a whisper.

The Chairman raised his eyebrows and said "It's normally customary to invite someone inside when they knock at your door."

Drew's face fell and his heart sank, but he saw no alternative and stepped aside as his boss strode into his hotel room. The Scotsman stood at the doorway, still holding the door, considering his options. The Chairman turned and said, in a tone that harboured no argument, "Shut that goddamn door and get in here." Drew released the door handle and it shut itself, the young Scot wincing at the _**thud**_ it made in doing so. Vince stood in the centre of the room, feet apart and hands clasped behind his back, facing towards Drew, who has not yet moved away from the door.

"Now, Andrew; you know I don't like to have to deal with someone who is standing miles away from me. Come over here where I can see you clearly." Drew reluctantly walked over towards the Chairman but stopped about five feet away. Vince sighed and said "Drew, you know perfectly well where I like my people to stand when I am talking to them. I am not going to remind you again." The Scotsman clenched his jaw and moved to precisely two feet directly in front of the Chairman, but kept his eyes lowered and his mouth shut.

"Come on, Drew" said the Chairman in a softer tone, "after everything that's happened between us, are you not even going to say 'hello'?"

Drew raised his eyes towards Vince and a vitriolic hatred flooded through him. He hated everything about this man. He'd promised him the world and given him nothing. He'd taken everything Drew was capable of, everything that he'd worked half his life for, and dangled it in front of him, just out of reach. Drew looked at Vince McMahon and wanted to vomit. He'd done everything in his power to break him, but only his iron Celtic will and the love of his friends had kept him sane. True, he'd turned to the bottle more than once to drown the pain, but what Vince had done to him had been more than a man could bear alone. Now he wanted Drew to be sweet?

Drew took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and as evenly as he could he asked "What can I do for you, Mr McMahon?"

Vince gave a small smile and answered, "Why, it's WrestleMania. It's a special occasion. I thought I would pay a special visit to my Chosen One."

Drew's stomach did a double-flip as Vince gave a wry smile. Dear Lord, not this again. It's been two years since Drew was Vince's 'Chosen One', well, in the way that Vince meant it now at least. Drew shook his head and his voice began to crack. "Mr McMahon, please. Don't do this. I…"

Drew's words were halted by a sudden backhand to his jaw. The strike stunned him. Despite his age Vince McMahon kept himself in excellent physical condition and Drew was simply unprepared for the blow. Added to that the alcohol he'd consumed during the show the Scot was spun backwards onto the bed and the Chairman pounced on top of him, grabbing him roughly by the hair.

"You fucking little shit. I fucking own you and you will do what I fucking tell you to do, when I fucking tell you to do it. Do you understand?"

Drew's head swam and he tried to resist but the Chairman had obviously come prepared and handcuffed Drew's hands behind his back. He then stuffed a gag into Drew's mouth and tied it behind his head. Next he pulled out a pair of safety shears and cut away the back of Drew's pants and boxers. The young Scot tried to call out through the gag but his voice was muffled, and the Chairman gave a sinister laugh. "You thought that bulking up would get you away from me? You stupid fucking piece of shit. You're not as pretty as you used to be but you still fucking belong to me. **I** decide whether or not you're worth taking or not; and if you don't want to be back on Superstars jobbing to Zack Ryder and JTG every week then I suggest that you start fucking remembering who signs your fucking paycheck, asshole."

Drew started to sob uncontrollably and Vince reached up to slap him across the face. "You fucking pansy! Crying like a fucking baby? What the matter? Do you want your **mommy**?" Drew's tears grew hot at this last taunt; this bastard had no heart and no shame. He loved flaunting his power over people and he gave no notice about who he hurt in the process. In fact, he loved hurting people just to prove that he could. Drew knew that Vince was getting off on making him suffer and this was confirmed by the sound of Vince unzipping his fly. Without warning or preparation the Chairman roughly penetrated Drew and the Scotsman screamed into the gag. Even with the buffer of alcohol the pain was excruciating and Drew felt himself waving on the edges of consciousness. After what seemed like an interminable length of time the Chairman finally reached his peak and released himself into Drew. He knew from experience that Vince would have used a condom, because then there would be no DNA evidence.

Drew felt a wave of relief as the Chairman withdrew himself and could only lie there limply as the handcuffs and gag were removed. Vince, knowing that he was safe from any retributory acts, even took the time to rinse himself off in the bathroom and use the toilet. He stood over his conquest a moment, letting his gaze wander over the prone form. He then crouched down to make eye contact with Drew and stated, very clearly "I haven't finished with you, Andrew. You are still my Chosen One and I intend on getting as much out of you as I can. I suggest you get used to the idea. It will be much more… pleasant for you if you do." With that the Chairman turned, walked to the door, let himself out, and let the door shut itself behind him with a _**thud**_.


	6. Chapter 6

Stephen walked through the corridors of New Jersey's Izod Centre chuckling to himself. He and Randy Orton had just had what had to be the most bizarre match he'd had in a long time. The prediction of a hot post-Mania Raw crowd had come true, but if anything it had been an underestimation. This crowd was nothing short of nuclear. They had spent the entire match chanting for everyone and everything, including the ice cream vendor and the ring announcer. Unfortunately the only ones who had not received a chant were the two who were actually wrestling; and while Stephen had been able to take it in his stride Randy had blown his stack. Stephen was used to heckling crowds from his days on the UK independent circuit and this crowd was obviously heavily made up of Brits and Europeans. Randy, on the other hand, was more used to open adoration and had just had what could only been described as a bit of a tantrum once he'd returned backstage. Stephen decided to leave him to it and went to find Drew, who he'd not seen since buying him a drink last night.

He made his way to the changing room and saw the Scot, who was facing the wall, one foot up on the bench, lacing his shoe. Stephen gave him a pat on the back and Drew nearly leapt a foot in the air. The Irishman held both hands up. "Whoa, fella! T'is only me!" He saw the look of shock slowly leave Drew's face, but then noticed the bruise on his cheek. "Hey, when did yeh get tha' then?" He pointed and Drew turned to pack some things into his bag.

"Just took a knock during my match. It's nothing."

Stephen frowned at his lover's odd behaviour. He decided to try to draw him out a bit. "Can yeh believe tha' crowd tenight? Randal's right spit his dummy out because of the chants they was cummin' out wit' during our match. It was priceless, so it was!" He laughed but noticed that Drew didn't even raise a smile. When the Scot noticed Stephen was watching him he muttered an apology and said something about not being able to see the match because he was busy. Stephen crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, leaning in and lowering his voice so he wouldn't be overheard.

"Look, love. Ah don' know wha's up wit' yer but ah wish ye would tell me. Ah'm no good at tryin' ter guess what someone's riled about if they won' tell me, like."

Drew took a deep breath and Stephen thought he saw his fingers tremble with the zip of his bag. His instinct was to reach over and take Drew's hands in his but he stopped himself and checked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching them. He leaned in again and said "Drew, please tell me. Wha's up wit yeh?"

Drew looked at Stephen and the Irishman could see that his eyes were shining with unshed tears. In a steady voice the Scotsman said "I cannae see ye anymore, Stephen. I dinnae wan tae play second fiddle tae some lass just because ye dinnae have thee stones tae stand up and say tha' ye love me. Go and make her yer wife and have a dozen bairns and be thee perfect wee fam'ly if tha's what ye want; but don' think fer a cold minute yer drag me along behind like a lovesick puppy te take advantage of when ye feel like it." Stephen stood in stunned silence as Drew picked up his bag, gave him one last, cold look in the eye, and walked away.

It took every ounce of self-control Drew possessed not to cry as he walked away from the man he loved. He knew he was doing the right thing, distancing himself from Stephen. If Vince was going to start abusing him again he needed to keep Stephen as far away as possible, firstly to keep Vince from finding out about Drew's relationship with the Irishman and secondly to keep his lover from finding out about the Chairman's violations. Drew was deeply ashamed about what Vince did to him but that was not the only reason for him wanting to maintain a code of silence. If Stephen found out Vince could easily make his life hell as well and as the Chairman he was the one holding all the cards. He was their boss, not to mention a billionaire. If Drew attempted to bring any kind of charges against Vince he could easily buy himself the best legal team and walk away, scot-free. No matter which way Drew looked at it, he could see no way out but to simply give in to Vince's demands. At least the first time had lead to a push in Drew's career, albeit only leading to the Intercontinental title. Maybe if he could swallow his pride and make Vince happier he might get further this time. The thought made him sick to his stomach but his pragmatic side thought that if had to do this he might as well get something out of it.

He was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear the footsteps behind him. He jumped another foot in the air when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around and found himself again looking into Stephen's blue eyes. This time the Irishman's brow lowered and his mouth turned downwards into a frown. "Dammit, Andrew yer jumpier than a rabbit teday. Wha' the fuck has gotten inte yeh? An don' give me tha' bullshit abou' not seein' me no more. I know yeh too well fer tha'. Yer tryin' te cover up fer somethin' an ah wan' te know wha' it is. **Now**." Stephen stood with his hands on his hips and a stern look on his face, waiting for an answer. Drew knew the Irishman well enough that he was not going to be fobbed off with any kind of platitudes when he was in this mood. He was a Celt after all and they were amongst one the most stubborn races on the planet.

Drew blinked and swallowed a couple of times and all he could think of to say was "Not here." Stephen looked decidedly annoyed but nodded and insisted that they talk in private at the earliest opportunity. It would be difficult for him because his girlfriend and her family were still in town but he said he would send Drew a text message if he got a chance to get away. Drew agreed to the terms and the two parted ways. The Scot made his way to the parking lot where Yuvraj was waiting with the shared rental car. He took the passenger seat and let his friend regale him with tales of his visiting family. He had over three dozen relatives in the area and they all had their own ideas on how he should be spending time with them. He said he'd been lucky to be able to pry himself away long enough to make Raw at all. As he spoke Drew just about managed to make the appropriate responses but he was highly distracted and just wanted to think about what he was going to do about Stephen and Vince.

Fortunately Yuvraj got himself into a sufficient froth about his family and he declared on his own that he didn't want to speak about it anymore, so Drew suggested that they listened to the radio. His friend agreed heartily agreed and turned on a rock station, cranking the volume. Drew was then able to turn his head and look out the window and get lost in his thoughts as the miles drifted by. How could he possibly deal with Stephen now that he knew that something was up? He racked his brain trying to come up with some sort of story to tell the Irishman but could not think of anything that would hold enough water. His earlier attempt had been his best shot and Stephen had seen right through it. _Damn that man_, Drew thought with only the slightest resentment. _He knows me almost better than I know myself_. A surge of love swept through him and he quickly wiped away a tear and fought to regain his composure.

He had to do something, and he had to do it soon. He thought about Vince McMahon and the bile rose to his mouth. Now that he was heading to his hotel room and the very real prospect of facing that man again he knew he couldn't do it willingly. The very thought of him made him sick, and today he could barely sit down from the damage he'd suffered last night. He physically winced at the recollection and adjusted the position in his seat, not that it made much difference. He'd had to pack himself with a wad of toilet paper to soak up the bleeding. He simply could not bring himself to go through that again, not when he had the love of a good man like Stephen to hold up in contrast. He wished he had someone to turn to, somewhere he could go. He wished his mother was still here. This last thought brought the tears unchecked and he sat by the window, the lights of the highway flashing across his face as he decided there was only one way out.

When Drew got to his hotel room he began his preparations. He placed his bag on the floor and pulled out his laptop. He switched it on, started the program, then set it on the desk next to the television. He placed a magazine over the monitor then went about his regular business. He was on the bed, watching the TV a couple of hours later when the knock came. He took a deep breath, turned off the television, looked through the peephole and saw the Chairman standing there. Drew opened the door and stood back silently to allow him in, and Vince took up the same position he had the previous night. Drew came to stand in front of him.

"Well, Andrew. Have you come to a decision?" Vince said.

Drew looked the Chairman directly in the eye. "Mr McMahon, I'm begging you. Please don't make me do this. It hurts me. I'm still bleeding from what you did to me last night. I didn't like it when you did it to me before, years ago, but you made me do it in order to advance my career. When you finally stopped raping me my career tanked. Now you want me to go through all that again. It's not right."

Vince was getting visibly annoyed and cut Drew off. "Spare me your bitch-ass whining. God, you make me sick. You look like a girl and you cry like one, too." He waved his hands in a mocking gesture "Oh, Mr McMahon's raping me! Well go ahead and prove it, you little bitch. I think I'm going to get you to start wearing little girls' dresses and put your hair in pigtails since you like to cry and pout so much. Would you like that, Andrew? Would you? In fact, I think I'm going to start calling you Andrea from now on!" Vince's smile had become a distinctly evil sneer and he was right in Drew's face, spitting his words at him. Drew winced at the onslaught but did not step back.

Vince reached up and took Drew's jaw in his hand. His fingers dug into the Scot's cheeks and the two locked eyes. Vince said "You are going to do what I tell you, when I tell you, or I am going to make your life a fucking misery. You think you have it bad now? How would you like me to bury your buddies right along with you? Huh? It would be a shame to have to explain to that ginger pal of yours why his little girl is going to have to strip her way through college." Drew wanted nothing more at that moment than to spit in the Chairman's face but he resisted. He glared at Vince and got a knowing smile in return. The Chairman knew full well he was pushing Drew's buttons and that he could do nothing to retaliate. He pulled on Drew's chin and told him to drop to his knees. He then Unzipped his fly and Drew turned his head and forced the bile back down his throat.

Vince freed himself and turned Drew's head back towards him. "Open your mouth, _Andrea_" he said. Drew's eyes were clamped shut and so were his lips. Vince slapped him hard across the face and it sent Drew reeling. He grabbed the Scot by the hair, brought him back up to a kneeling position, and forced himself into Drew's mouth. The Scotsman concentrated solely on not being sick and the Chairman was content to fuck Drew's throat. Drew had to tear himself away for air a few times but The Chairman was relentless, holding Drew by the hair with both hands and using his mouth as a sex toy. Eventually Vince decided he'd had enough and told Drew to get up and pull down his pants. The Scot begged him again for mercy, repeating that he was still injured from the previous violation. Vince raised a hand to strike and Drew raised both arms in a defensive gesture.

"I am not going to tell you again. You do what I tell you, when I tell you. Now get up on that motherfucking bed and give me that ass. That ass **belongs** to me and I will have it whenever I damn well please!" Drew slowly, reluctantly, climbed up and turned around to reach for his belt. He started to pull down his jeans when Vince, obviously impatient, reached over and yanked them and his boxers down in one motion, then pushed Drew to his knees onto the bed. Drew felt the paper wadding pulled away from him and Vince knelt behind. He felt pressure at his entrance and tried desperately to fight the urge to tense up. At least Vince was giving him the small mercy of using a lubricated condom this time. The entry was still agonising and Drew had to grit his teeth to stop from screaming. He let out a long grunt, bunched up the duvet in his hands and bit down on it to stop from crying out as Vince took his pleasure with him. When Vince finally finished Drew curled up into a foetal ball and the Chairman went to the bathroom to wash off the blood.

Vince left without another word and Drew collected himself before gingerly lifting himself off the bed. He went over to the laptop, lifted the magazine, and checked that everything was in order. When he was satisfied, he wrote out an email, carefully selected the recipients, attached the file, and checked the clock before hitting send. It was nearly 3am. Nobody would be looking at their emails this time of morning. Twitter, maybe, but not email. He closed down the laptop, stood up, wincing at the pain, then went to the bathroom. He ran himself a hot bath, steam filling the room, then dug through his shaving kit. He pulled out a new shaver head and carefully broke it apart using a pair of scissors and set of tweezers. He laid the blades out long the edge of the bath and climbed into the scalding water. He gritted his teeth as he lowered himself in and the water touched his injured area but he needed the heat for this to work. He allowed himself time to soak and acclimatise to the heat before picking up one of the blades. He lifted his eyes to the heavens and said "I'll see you soon, Mum" before placing the metal to his wrist.


	7. Chapter 7

Heath Miller was having another bout of insomnia and in order not to keep his wife and little girl awake he'd taken his iPad down to the lobby to surf the net, chat with fans on twitter and generally pass the time. An icon popped up to indicate a received email and he saw it was from Drew. He thought it odd as he would normally send a text but saw there was an attachment, which he opened. He double-clicked the file and was confused when he saw Drew's face looking back at him. The Scot just looked at the screen for a while, then stood and began moving about the room, walking in and out of shot, changing his clothes then eventually lying on the bed and using the remote to, apparently, watch TV. Heath used the scroll bar to forward until there was significant movement and he suddenly saw the unmistakable figure of Vince McMahon in the room with Drew. Heath scrolled back a bit and watched as Drew heard the knock, take a steadying breath, and go to answer the door.

Heath watched the rest of what unfolded with deepening horror. He had to turn the volume up to maximum and press the buds into his ears to hear what was being said but he could just make out the exchange between the two men. Heath was equally heartbroken at Drew pleading for mercy and disgusted at Vince's refusal to grant him that mercy. He was sickened by what the Chairman made his friend do and could barely watch as the final violation took place. Tears threatened as he watched one of the kindest, most fun-loving men he'd ever had the pleasure to know painfully drag himself from the bed and move back towards the camera. Heath got a full, close-up view of that full, round face, now etched with pain, and the screen went black as the video came to an end. Heath sat there for a moment unable to believe what he'd just seen, then he closed the window and read the text accompanying the video attachment in the email:

_Dear friends:_

_By now someone will have likely found me and you will all be wondering why I did it. _

_I am attaching this video as an explanation. Please don't try to be heroes and try to get _

_some kind of justice on my behalf, we all know that it wouldn't amount to anything. I _

_just can't live with the shame of it anymore, and this is my only option. Please know that _

_you all were the ones who kept me going as long as I did, and that you brought light _

_into my life when all else was darkness. I love you. – Drew_

Heath read the email and a sudden, cold realisation hit him. The horror of what he'd just seen paled in comparison to the terror of what he felt now. He jumped up and raced to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly until the doors opened. Heath paced and bounced in the enclosed space as it seemed to crawl up to his floor, and he squeezed himself through the opening door and raced down the hall to Drew's room. He pounded on the door with his fist and called out Drew's name but there was no answer. He renewed his efforts and heads started to appear at other doors to see what the commotion was about. Heath ignored them and tried futilely at the handle to try and force the door open.

"Heath, what the bloody blue hell do you think you're doing?" The booming voice of Stu Bennett cut through Heath's frenzy and he spun around to see the Englishman stood beside him, clad in a bathrobe. Victoria Crawford was stood in the doorway opposite, drawing her silken robe around her and looking petrified to come out. Heath grabbed Stuart by the arms. "Stu, we gotta get in there, man. Drew's doing something really stupid and we gotta get in there and save him!" The Englishman looked incredulous but saw the wild panic on his friend's face and said "Alright, hang on. I'll see if Paul can get us a master key." He strode off and Heath continued to bang at Drew's door. After a few minutes Wade returned with Paul Levesque, who had what appeared to be a hotel Duty Manager with him. Heath stepped aside and the man in the suit opened the door. Heath ran inside and Stuart followed, with Paul not far behind. Heath called out Drew's name, searching the room, then looked in the bathroom and yelled out "Oh my god! CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Paul turned to the Duty Manager, who was straight onto the phone as Heath and Stuart pulled Drew's limp form out of the bath and onto the bed. Paul called out to the hallway for somebody to bring Dr. Sampson and told them which room he was in. He arrived quickly and began tending the gashes on Drew's wrists.

The Paramedics soon arrived. Dr. Sampson coordinated Drew's treatment, and accompanied him as he was taken to hospital. Wade quickly dressed and he and Heath went to the hospital in Stu's car. As Stu drove he asked Heath "What the fuck did he go and do that for?"

Heath grimaced and said "Check your email."

The Englishman shot the redhead a look and said "And what in hell is that supposed to mean?"

Heath ran a hand through his hair. "Drew sent you, me, José Rodriguez and Stephen Farrelly an email tonight telling us why he did it. It was only because I was on my iPad when I got it that I saw it in time. Please, Lord God in Jesus' name, let it have been in time!"

Stu tried to contain his frustration and repeated his question. "Heath, mate. _Why did he do it_?"

Heath opened his eyes and turned to look at Stuart. He fumbled for words a moment, then just decided to blurt it out. "Man, Vince has been raping him."

Stuart almost swerved off the road and Heath grabbed onto the sides of his seat as the Englishman regained control of the car. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open in shock. "_You bloody what?_"

Heath raised a hand and spoke slowly. "I know, I couldn't believe it either, but Drew sent a video along with the email. It shows everything. Vince stands there and literally humiliates Drew, and when he accuses Vince of having made him do these… disgusting things just to hold on to his career Vince doesn't even have the decency to deny it. It just sort of sneers at him and challenges him to prove it in a court of law…" Heath's voice trailed off and he could see the muscles in his friend's jaw working. Stu was obviously livid and when that happened he went quiet. Heath decided that the best thing to do was to stay quiet himself, as he didn't want the car making another swerve with him in it.

They managed to make it to the hospital in one piece but before they went into the building Heath sent Stephen and José a quick text explaining that they were at the hospital with Drew and to check their emails to find out why. He had a response from the Irishman saying he'd heard about Drew and was on his way to the hospital already. Heath replied saying he'd tell him what part of the hospital to go to once he found out himself and the two went to the Reception desk. They were directed to the Emergency Room and were still sat in a quiet waiting area when Stephen arrived, somehow managing to look even paler than usual.

"Where is he? Is he alrigh'?" Stuart stood, held the Irishman's shoulders and spoke to him softly in an attempt to calm his obvious panic.

"Relax, mate. We haven't heard anything yet. Just sit down and get yer head straight. If he does come 'round and ya go in to see 'im you'll want to be at yer best."

Stephen looked at Stuart, took a couple of deep breaths, and nodded. Stu nodded as well and led him to a chair. The three sat in silence as the minutes seemed to drag by, slowly turning into an hour, then two. Finally a doctor entered the room and the three men stood up, expectantly. The doctor looked at the three men in turn and asked: "Are any of you kin to Mr Galloway?"

Stephen replied "All of Drew's fam'ly are in the UK. We're the closest te kin tha' he's got here." The doctor nodded and removed his glasses.

"I will be blunt with you; Mr Galloway has lost an awful lot of blood. If he hadn't got here as quickly as he did I have no doubt he would be deceased. As it is he is a strong, young man and right now he is hanging in there. However he is not completely out of the woods and I want you all to be prepared for the possibility that he may not make it until morning." The three men put a hand to each other's arm or shoulder for support and the doctor continued: "If he manages to get through the next 12 hours or so he should pull through. We are doing everything we can but the damage to his system from lack of blood may have been too great. We have given him a transfusion but we will have to see if it's enough. He's in our Intensive Care Unit now, so you won't be able to see him until their visiting hours, and even then it's strictly limited how many people can see him at a time. I suggest you go home and get some rest."

The trio thanked the doctor profusely for saving their friend and asked to pass on their thanks to all the staff involved. The doctor nodded and accepted their handshakes, then made his way as the three turned to each other to discuss their plan of action. Heath said "Well, it's almost 6am now. What do you guys want to do?"

Stuart yawned widely and said "I don't know about the pair of you, but I'm shattered. I'm up for going back to the hotel fer a kip then coming back to see Drew later."

The two redheads looked at each other. Stephen said "Ah don't think ah'll be able te sleep, even if ah wanted te. Ah'll stay here, maybe get some breakfast at the canteen, and wait fer visiting hours te start."

"That sounds like a good idea. I'll wait with ya" said Heath. Stuart waved a hand in compliance and asked them to give Drew his best and tell him he'd see him later. They agreed and the three left the waiting area, parting ways with a wave. The ginger duo made their way to the canteen, and were glad that it was largely deserted. They made their selections and found a quiet corner to eat. They were just sitting down when Paul Levesque entered the room and made his way towards them. He bought himself a coffee and sat down with them. He was caught up on Drew's condition as he'd run into Stuart in the hall. However he had another burning question on his lips.

"Why in God's name would Drew do something like this? Have you guys noticed anything about him lately that would give us a clue?"

Both of the other men went silent. They each knew reasons why, and neither of them dared speak them aloud, especially to the Chief Operating Officer. Paul was a decent enough guy, but he was still their boss and, more importantly, Vince McMahon's son-in-law. He stood to inherit the company, at least in part, one day and he was not going to let one of the rank-and-file do anything to tarnish the product. The COO looked from one redhead to the other, raising his eyebrows and waiting for an answer. Eventually he sat back in his chair.

"Okay. Seems like everyone else knows something that I don't. Fine, I get it. I'm the big, bad bossman and you can't talk to me about certain things. Just let me remind you about something here: Drew Galloway, your friend- in fact both your _best_ friend- almost killed himself today. As the COO I am obliged to run an investigation as to why one of my employees decided to slit his wrists in a hotel room after a TV taping and I will be putting it in my report that the two of you refused to cooperate."

The two gingers looked at each other and then down at the table. Heath said "Mr Levesque…"

The COO cut in: "Paul. This isn't a formal hearing and I want you guys to just talk to me, okay? Didn't I strap on a pair of boots on Sunday, same as you?" Heath didn't correct him and remind his boss that he hadn't actually strapped on his boots Sunday as 3MB wasn't given a match, but instead continued his original point:

"Paul, you have to understand that yes, you are the boss and yes, there are certain things we can't talk to you about. It's nothing against you, honest to God it's not. It's just that in this particular instance Drew's reason for doing it has a direct impact on the company and… well, your family."

Paul and Stephen both looked at Heath, confused. The Irishman had assumed that Drew had done it because of the pressures of hiding their affair. He'd never considered the possibility of there being a different cause. Heath had said something in his text about an email. What could it possibly have to do with Drew hurting himself? His train of thought was broken by Paul speaking. "Heath, listen to me. I understand that you feel like you're protecting Drew by being secretive but I promise you I am going to get to the bottom of this one way or the other. So it really will save everyone a lot of time and hassle if you just tell me what the hell is going on right now."

Heath looked torn and he ran a hand through his hair nervously. Stephen put a hand on his shoulder and said "Listen, fella. It's alrigh', we're friends here. Whatever yeh say can' be held against yeh. Please, just tell us wha's got inteh Drew."

Heath looked from Stephen to Paul and knew that he had to do something. He knew that Drew wanted his secret kept but he couldn't let that horrendous crime he'd witnessed go unpunished. He had to at least speak up about it, to let it be known that this monster walked among them. Heath motioned towards Paul's jacket with his head and asked "You got your tablet with you?" Paul nodded and Heath held out his hand. Paul reached into his pocket, handed over the tablet and Heath logged into his email account. He pulled up the video, setting it to the part just before there was a knock at the door, handed the tablet back to Paul, and told him to hit 'play'.

Stephen moved around to watch at the same time and Heath watched their expressions. Paul pulled out a pair of earbuds and they used one each to listen to the conversation, their faces contorting with disbelief. Paul's face twisted with disgust and Stephen's dropped into a mask of pure sorrow as the scene played out before them. The COO brought a hand to his mouth and the Irishman's eyes filled with tears. When the video finished Paul ripped the earbud away and tossed the tablet from his hand, as if it was the device itself which offended him. Heath picked up the tablet and pulled up the email text, showing it to both men and explaining how it was reading that which had raised the alarm for him. Stephen read the email last and sat holding the tablet, seemingly lost in the words, his face a blend of wretchedness, pain and unbridled hatred. Paul sat, nodding, then stood and began pacing. Eventually he looked at the ginger pair and said: "You two look after Drew. I'll take care of the old man."


	8. Chapter 8

On the dot of the hour that visiting hours started Stephen and Heath were waiting at the door of the ICU. They were admitted but told that Drew had not yet regained consciousness. The two nodded and said they were content to simply sit by his bed in hope of being there if and when he did wake. The pair found his bed and were saddened by how sickly the young man looked. His normally tanned skin had a whitish-blue tinge to it and his round face was sunken. They took a seat on either side of the bed and asked the nurses how he was doing, but mostly sat in silence. Stephen wanted desperately to hold Drew's hand and stroke his hair but he daren't in Heath's presence. He felt miserable that he couldn't kiss his lover's brow and whisper encouraging words to him in these black hours, but things were already bad enough and he didn't dare make them any worse.

The Irishman's mind struggled with the ethics of his decision. Was he doing the right thing by keeping silent? Was denying Drew comfort in time of his greatest need for the sake of protecting their careers worth it if he didn't live to see another sunrise? On the other hand, Drew had been careful in the wording of his email; he had finished it with the words 'I love you' and Stephen knew that they were meant for him. Drew had obviously not wanted to reveal their secret, even at his passing, and the Irishman knew it was to protect him. Stephen's eyes welled up at the thought of this last act of selflessness and felt a wave of guilt at his own struggle to act in kind. He angrily wiped away the tears and stood up to begin pacing in frustration.

Heath saw the movement and stood up to speak to the Irishman in a soft voice. "Look, man. I know you're upset by what Drew did; but don't be angry with him, okay? He did the only thing he felt he could…"

Stephen sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Listen, fella. Ah'm not angry at Drew fer doin' it. Honest ah'm not. Ah'm just…" He ran both his hands through his hair and thought of what he could say. He was saved from having to give an explanation by movement on the bed. The ginger duo rushed to each side and leaned down to watch Drew slowly open his eyes.

The young Scot slowly raised a hand to his face, then noticed that his movement was impeded when the tube from his IV drip caught on the rail on the side of the bed. Stephen unhooked it and asked Drew how he felt. Drew looked from one face to the other, then suddenly his eyes went wide. "Oh, _Christ_. Why dinnea ye just let me **die**?" Drew's face crumpled and he started to weep wretchedly. Stephen threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms around the sobbing figure, burying his face in Drew's hair and telling him that everything was going to be okay. Heath went to fetch a nurse, who came back and tried to speak to Drew a moment, who was inconsolable. Eventually she administered a tranquiliser and he fell into a deep sleep, and only then did Stephen relinquish his hold. He still stood there a moment, soothing back Drew's long tresses from his face, tears of his own tracing gently down his cheek. Heath stood on the opposite side of the bed, watching the scene with a look of consternation on his face.

A different nurse approached them. "Excuse me. There is another visitor here to see Mr Galloway, a Mr Bennett. Patients are only allowed two visitors at a time, so one of you will have to leave."

The two redheads looked at each other, and Heath shrugged. "I'll go. You stay here. I should get back to Steph anyway." Stephen nodded and gave a little smile in thanks.

After Heath left he took the opportunity to give Drew a kiss on the forehead and whisper to him: "Darlin', ah'm gonna help yeh get through this. We're gonna make it all right, together. Ah love yeh." He squeezed Drew's hand and stroked his hair until Stuart came to the bedside. Stephen was surprised by the angry look on the Englishman's face and even more surprised when he pulled the curtain shut around them. He had to take a step back when Stuart stood toe-to-toe with him.

"Are you _fucking_ insane? Aren't things bad enough without you flaunting your pervery in front of everyone?"

Stephen held his hands up and kept his voice lowered. "Wha' the feck are yeh on about, fella? Ah haven' been flaunting anyting! Ah've been feckin' tearin' meself up abou' not being able to give me own lover comfort in his hour of need…"

Stuart butted in: "Well if that's true then why has Heath just asked me if you've been bumming Drew as well?"

Stephen was stunned into silence. He'd genuinely thought he'd not been obvious. He thought he'd been able to pass it off as just being a friend. Obviously he was wrong. He'd ruined everything now. Drew had been so careful to hide their secret, and he'd gone and blown their cover. Now he had the shame of Vince's violation and the stigma of this relationship to face when he woke up. Stephen was ashamed to think, however fleetingly, that it may be more merciful for him if he didn't wake up.

The Irishman didn't speak but slumped into the chair by the bedside. Stuart watched him then made a sound of disgust and ran a hand over his beard. The two remained like that in silence a minute or two before Stuart finally spoke. "Look, I told Heath because he deserves to know the truth; but he's agreed to keep mum about it. He gets it, even though he is a bible-basher. He doesn't like it any more than I do, but he doesn't want to see you two out of a job."

Stephen raised his eyes. "Yer the best mates a fella could ask fer. Ah don' know wha' we'd do without yers."

Stuart scoffed and pointed a finger. "You'd be out on your fat, ginger arse, make no mistake about it. You don't know yer born, you don't. Neither of you." He shook his head and Stephen raised a sad smile, silently thanking his friend for looking out for his and Drew's best interests. Stuart grimaced in reply but Stephen knew the Englishman well enough to know that it was just his manner, choosing to underplay his generosity. Stuart took the chair on the opposite side of the bed and the two sat in silence a while before the Englishman struck up a conversation of noncommittal small-talk. They chatted quietly about nothing in particular until Drew began to groan in his sleep. Stephen jumped up and began to stroke his hair. Stuart shot him a look but Stephen glared back defiantly and turned back to his lover, smoothing Drew's furrowed brow and speaking to him in a soft tone. Eventually Drew managed to settle back into a more peaceful sleep and Stephen sat back down.

A silence settled for some time on the pair until Stuart finally blurted out "Can you honestly **not** control yourself? You're in public for fuck's sake!"

Stephen sighed. "Will yer keep yer voice down? Ah can control meself jus' fine, but not when it means making Drew suffer, an' especially when it's in front of someone who already knows."

Stuart looked annoyed. "I told you right from the start I didn't want it rubbed in my face. Can you not respect my wishes? I am doing you a massive fucking favour, remember."

Stephen turned and leaned towards his friend. "Listen, fella. Ah realise all too well tha' yer doing us, _both_ of us a favour, and just how massive tha' favour is. Don' think fer a minute tha' ah don' appreciate it, 'cause ah do. But ah won' sit on me hands while Drew's in pain jus' because ye don' like it when I touch 'im. Fer God's sake, Stu, all ah was doing was strokin' 'is hair."

Stuart grimaced but didn't say another word. He went back to stroking his beard in an irritated manner and Stephen left him to it. Not long after Drew began to stir again and Stephen stood again, taking Drew's hand in his and leaning over him. The Scotsman's eyes opened and found his lover's face. He swallowed and squeezed Stephen's hand tightly, and the Irishman raised his free hand to cup Drew's cheek. The Scot turned his face away from the touch but Stephen tightened his grip on Drew's hand and leaned down to speak to him. "Drew, listen te me. Ah know yeh didn't think yeh could face Vince after what he did te yeh, and ah don't blame yeh fer thinkin' it. But yer gonna have te get it inter yer head tha' we're all behind yeh, an' we're gonna help yer through this. Yer not gonna do this alone."

Drew's eyes met Stephen's and the Irishman could see the uncertainty and desperation in them. He placed his other hand around the one clasped in his grip and looked at Stuart. "Ah'm right, aren't ah, Stu?"

The Englishman stood, looked at Stephen, then looked at Drew. His voice was clear as a bell: "Of course he is. We're all here for you, mate. Always have been, always will be." Stephen felt a constriction in his chest at the words and he smiled at the Englishman, who gave him a blank look back, as if it were perfectly understood that he would give that reply. Of course he would. Stuart may have his reservations about their type of relationship but he would not hold that against them as individuals. He was their friend and he would stand by them through thick and thin. Drew needed his support and he could be counted on to give it. Stephen nodded and turned back to look at Drew. There was more confidence in the young face now and Stephen's smile grew with genuine joy.

A nurse arrived to run some tests and the two men told Drew they would go and get something to eat from the canteen, then come right back. Drew nodded and the lovers gave each other's hands a final squeeze before parting. The cafeteria was busier this time and the duo had to manoeuvre through requests for photos and autographs, which delayed them. When they were finally able to get back to the ICU they were told that only one of them would be able to go in, as Mr Galloway already had a visitor. Stuart agreed to hang back and Stephen went in to find Paul Levesque by Drew's bedside.

The two looked up as Stephen stepped through the curtain, and Drew turned his head away as Paul asked the Irishman to pull up a seat. "Wha's goin' on. Drew, why are yeh upset? Wha' have yeh said to 'im, Paul?" Stephen's muscles began to flex and Paul raised a conciliatory hand. Drew turned his face back towards his lover but when he spoke his voice shook.

"Stephen, I'm so sorry. I had to tell him. There's going to be an investigation and it was going to come out anyway. Please don't be angry with me. Paul's said that this way we may still be able to keep it under wraps…"

Paul cut in: "I can't guarantee that. It depends on how the next few days play out. I've been talking to my lawyers and have shown them the video. We may be able to keep this from being leaked to the press but a lot of it depends on Vince…"

Stephen relaxed but he looked at Drew and saw the pain on the Scotsman's face. He knew that this was precisely what Drew wanted to avoid- a direct, legal confrontation with Vince McMahon. The Irishman went over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Remember wha' ah said te ye before: yer not goin' te do this by yerself. Yer mates are wit' ye, and most of all, **ah'm** wit' ye." Drew took a deep breath and nodded, and Stephen leaned in to embrace the young Scot. He held Drew close, caressing his shoulder and resting his chin on the top of his head. He could feel the Scotsman's breath catch as he tried to control his emotions and Stephen tucked his chin down to place a soft kiss on Drew's hairline.

Paul checked over his shoulder then leaned in. "Guys, I'm sorry but I'm going to need you to keep a… professional distance until we get this thing sorted out. We need to play this smart if we want to end up on top of the pile when it's all over." The two lovers looked at the COO then turned to look at each other. Stephen could see the pain in Drew's eyes before the Scot lowered them and said "Okay, Paul. Whatever you think is best."

Stephen took a deep breath. "No. No, it's not right. Ah can' just stay behind an' watch from a distance while Drew here faces tha' monster on his own. Ah won' do it. Ah'll be where ah belong, an' tha's by his side." Drew raised his face again and Stephen lifted a hand to cup his lover's cheek. This time Drew lifted a hand to place alongside Stephen's, and turned his head to kiss his palm before nestling his face into the strong, pale fingers and closing his eyes.

Paul took a deep breath. "Okay. I understand. I can see that Drew needs your support and I won't take that away from him; but I cannot stress to you enough the importance of keeping **discreet**." The two Celts nodded and the COO nodded in return. Paul stood. "Right, I'll let you get some rest; I've bothered you enough for one day." He pointed a finger at Drew. "You make sure you get yourself back up to fighting fitness. I'm not going to let that old bastard take away one of the best workers this company has just because he needs to see blood to get it up." Drew half-smiled, half-grimaced, nodded and thanked Paul for his understanding. "Don't worry about it" he said before turning to Stephen. "Look after him, Steve. He needs you." He paused for a moment before adding: "Seems you two make a good team." The two Celts watched as the COO walked through the curtain, in a mild state of shock. They turned to look at each other and both let out an incredulous laugh. They were still shaking their heads when Stu Bennett walked back in.

"What's so bloody funny?" The two lovers continued to laugh softly and Stephen waved a hand. Stuart simply scowled and shook his head before muttering to himself about the Celts being a race of madmen. Eventually Drew and Stephen gave the Englishman a run-down on what had transpired with the COO, and Stuart nodded. "Good to hear you at least have Paul on your side. He may only have a partial stake but if he can get 'is missus behind 'im then they may be able to oust the old pervert. Has he said how long it may take to go to trial?"

Stephen looked at Drew, who frowned and shook his head. The Irishman reached up to take his lover's hand. "It's alrigh' love. We'll get yer trough it. Ah promise. We'll help yer." Drew looked from one face to the other and was met with encouraging nods, and he visibly squared his shoulders and nodded in return.


	9. Chapter 9

Drew made excellent progress and was able to be released from hospital the next day after a psychiatric examination, under the care of a company mental health worker. Stephen and Stuart rented a car and decided to take turns driving in shifts rather than flying back to Florida in order to avoid dealing with crowds and the hassle of an airport. It turned into an enjoyable road-trip for the trio, and reminded them of their days on the UK independent circuit. They filled the long hours recalling adventures, matches, common friends and common foes. They teased each other mercilessly and played pranks on each other, particularly anyone who dared attempt to get some sleep. When they finally rolled up Drew's driveway it was the small hours of the morning.

The three exited the vehicle and gave a long stretch, easing their muscles after the cramped confines of the SUV. They pulled their bags from the back and all three entered the house. Drew punched in the security code to shut off the alarm while Stephen went to the fridge to pull some beers from the fridge. Stuart accepted gratefully, but Drew declined, saying he was happy with water. Stephen got some ice from the dispenser in the refrigerator door and poured him a glass from the filter pitcher. The three dispensed with their beverages quickly and decided that it was time for bed. Drew asked Stuart if he remembered where the spare bedroom was and the Englishman nodded. Then Drew suddenly stopped and looked at Stephen.

Stuart noticed the look and sighed. "Look, if you two want to sleep together, fine. Just keep it down, alright?" The two Celts smiled at their friend in thanks, and he gave a frown in response but they knew him well enough to know that it was not in bad humour. Stuart picked up his bag and flung it over his shoulder as he walked down the hallway, leaving the two lovers alone for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. They looked into each other's eyes and Stephen walked over to Drew, taking the round face into his hands and leaning in for a full, long kiss. Drew wrapped his arms around Stephen's muscular torso, relishing the strength that he felt and taking comfort in it. He knew that his lover had an inner toughness as well as physical strength, and he knew that he would help him through the tough times ahead. Drew increased the passion of his kiss, wanting to show Stephen how much he meant to him, and how much he loved him.

The Irishman pulled back and looked into his lover's eyes. "Easy, love. Are yeh up fer all tha' jus' yet?"

Drew lowered his eyes. "I… I'm still a bit sore. But I love you and I want to show you how much."

Stephen smiled. "Ah know yeh do, an' yeh ken show me in other ways. But if yeh _insist_…" His smile widened and Drew grinned in kind. The two embraced again, remembering the taste of each other, before finally pulling apart and making their way to Drew's room. Stephen insisted on carrying both their bags, making Drew shake his head and roll his eyes. They teased and generally messed around with each other as they did their ablutions but they eventually managed to crawl into bed. They both laid on their side, facing each other, stroking one another's face before leaning in to resume their earlier kiss. Stephen reached down to knead one of Drew's muscular buttocks while the Scot massaged the Irishman's back. Drew thrust his pelvis up against Stephen's and felt his lover harden at the motion.

"Ah, yeh've got the Devil 'imself in those hips, Andrew" whispered the Irishman, hoarsely. Drew grinned and redoubled his efforts, making his lover bite his lip and grab his ass even harder. The Scotsman slid downwards, trailing his tongue along his lover's pale skin as he did so. He stopped when he reached the now throbbing member, twitching in mid-air as if begging for relief. Drew extended his tongue and started from Stephen's sack, licking slowly from base to tip. The Irishman sucked in his breath through gritted teeth, arching his back and gripping the sheets with clenched fists. Drew ran his tongue around the head a couple of times before taking it into his mouth, sucking slowly and running his hand up and down the shaft.

Stephen placed a hand on Drew's head and began to guide him. He took a handful of hair and pushed his head downwards. Suddenly Drew shot backwards and sat up, a look of horror on his face. Stephen sat up as well. "Wha's wrong? Wha' happened?"

Drew was breathing like he'd just ran a marathon and it took him a minute to answer. Stephen moved to him, put an arm around his shoulders and held him until he calmed down enough to say, his voice shaking: "It was just like what _he_ did tae me. He pulled my hair like tha'. It made me gag. I'm sorry."

Stephen silently cursed himself and held Drew in tighter. "No, love. **Ah'm **sorry. Ah should've known it was too soon fer yeh. Ah should've been more careful. Ah was bein' selfish, please forgive me. Ah'm so sorry, darlin'."

Drew sniffled and wiped away a tear but steadied himself and shook his head. "No, it was nae yer fault. I wanted it, same as ye. Dinnea blame yersel'." They sat there a while longer, comforting one another, before crawling back under the covers and falling asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

Early the next morning the two Celts were woken by the sound of Drew's cell phone ringing. Drew had to dig into the pocket of the jeans he'd been wearing the day before to find it, but he eventually managed to tap the screen with a finger and answer groggily "Hello?"

"Drew? It's Paul. Sorry to have to do this to you but we could really use you at Stamford. Could you get here as soon as possible, please?"

Drew was suddenly very awake. "What, you mean like today?"

"Yes, today. As soon as possible. Believe me if I could send the jet I would; but it's Vince's plane…"

Drew sighed. "Yes, of course. I'll head straight to the airport and let you know when I can get to you. Okay. Bye."

Stephen was now awake and sitting up, watching Drew with a concerned look on his light-skinned face. "Wha's goin' on? Yer goin' someheres?"

Drew nodded. "That was Paul. He needs me at Titan Towers asap. Looks like it's time for the big showdown."

Stephen put a hand on the Scot's shoulder. "Ah'll come with yeh. Let me have a quick shower; me bag's still packed. We kin go as soon as yer ready." Drew gave him a small smile and nodded. The Irishman leaned in and placed a kiss on his lover's cheek. "It's gonna be alrigh', Drew. You'll be fine. Ah'll see to tha'." The Scotsman turned and smiled again, then leaned in to give Stephen a lingering kiss in appreciation. The two then got out of bed, Stephen heading to the shower and Drew pulling on a pair of jeans before going down the hall to inform Stuart of the development.

The Englishman decided to head home, dropping the Celts off at the airport en route, and they booked the first available flight to Connecticut. Stephen could tell that Drew was getting more and more nervous the closer they got to their destination. While they were at the airport he was able to cover his trepidation by getting 'into character' and posing for pictures with fans as if he didn't have a care in the world. However, his lover knew him better than anyone and he could tell his antics were merely a cover. Drew chewed nervously at his nails during the flight, not that he had any to begin with. It was a terrible habit he'd had his whole life and Stephen wanted to take Drew's hand and hold it in his own, almost as much to stop the chewing as for comfort. The need for 'discretion' stopped him, though.

The Irishman shook his head. Again he was being forced to deny Drew comfort when he desperately needed it just so they could maintain a public image of being _only_ co-workers and friends. The Irishman gave his lover's knee a nudge with his own, easily enough done in the close confines of plane and the fact that even business class seats were small to men their size. Drew turned to look at Stephen and the Irishman gave his lover a wink. The Scot smiled and gave a knee-bump of his own. The two leaned in so their upper arms were in close contact but only gave the outward appearance of two large men in a too-confining space. Drew looked out the window and Stephen flipped through the pages of a magazine, not really registering anything that he saw. His mind was too busy thinking about what awaited them at the end of their journey.

They were picked up at the airport and driven to Titan Towers. They were met at reception by one of Paul's lawyers, who gave Drew a few instructions as he led them to the boardroom. "Don't speak to Mr McMahon directly. Always talk to me, answer only my questions to the best of your abilities. We're going to show the video so we shouldn't have to ask you specific details, and if you want to leave the room when we show it you're perfectly within your rights to do so." Drew turned slightly green but he nodded and took a deep breath. Stephen put an encouraging hand on the Scot's shoulder and Drew gave his waist a pat in return.

The trio reached the boardroom and the lawyer opened the door for the two Celts to enter. Drew's breath caught but he held a stoic facial expression when his eyes met those of Vince McMahon. Stephen gave Drew's shoulder a squeeze and openly glared at the Chairman, who was flanked by several men in suits, presumably his legal team. Paul, who had been sitting on the opposite side of the table to Vince, stood up when the three entered. "Guys, please come in. Drew, you can sit here. Steve, why don't you take a seat next to him?" He indicated seats that were further down the table from himself, so that they could see the Chairman but were a distance away. The two Celts sat down, and waited for the lawyers to signal the next move.

Paul spoke first: "Alright, we all know why we're here…"

Vince cut in. "We're here because Mr Galloway has made a frankly ludicrous allegation against myself; and while I sympathise with his obviously fragile state of mind I think we're wasting everybody's time by even having this meeting." Drew's face went crimson and Stephen struggled to keep from leaping out of his seat and giving the Chairman the beating of his life, but the lawyer on Paul's team raised a hand in their direction and the COO gave them a subtle nod.

Paul turned to his father-in-law. "Ludicrous allegation, is it? Well why don't we see for ourselves?" He turned to the Scotsman. "Drew, if you want to leave…"

"I'll be just fine, thank you." Drew's voice was clear and did not waver. Stephen was proud of his lover's strength in the face of adversity and smiled at him, then turned his eyes defiantly towards Vince. One of Paul's team went to a laptop and the video was played for all to see on a blank wall in the room. Stephen fought hot tears and again had to stop himself from delivering a beating to the monster who sat a mere few feet away from him. Drew did not watch the video but instead focussed on the face of his attacker, who remained apathetic throughout the replay. When the lights were brought back up Paul spoke again.

"So, Vince. Are you still maintaining that the allegations are ludicrous?"

The Chairman leaned over as one of his team whispered in his ear. He sat back up and said "What you need to understand is that what you witnessed there was a game. You see, Mr Galloway prefers it, if you'll beg the expression, a little rough…"

Stephen couldn't contain himself any longer. He leapt to his feet. "You fecking lying cunt. Ah'll tear yer heart from yer chest fer tryin' ter make out Drew wanted any o' tha'!" Drew was looking down at the table, visibly shaking, and Paul and his lawyer moved to try and calm Stephen down. Vince sat there with a shade of a grin on his face as it took them almost a full minute to get the Irishman to retake his seat. When order was restored Paul's lawyer turned to Drew.

"Mr Galloway, do you have anything to say in response to Mr McMahon's statement?"

Drew looked up. Stephen held his breath, apprehensive at them pushing the young Scot for a response to such an outlandish statement. To his amazement Drew simply held up his wrists, his hands back so that the bandages poked out from his shirtsleeves.

"That's how much I wanted it."

The smirk dropped away from Vince's face and Stephen took a deep breath through his nose, overwhelmed with emotion and pride. Drew was showing such bravery; he'd never been so proud of the man. He felt his chest constrict with love for the Scot and bored a hole in Vince's face with his eyes. They were going to beat this man, one way or another. Through sheer will alone, they would beat this monster for what he'd done to Drew.

Paul nodded and placed his hands on the desk, interlacing his fingers. "Well, I guess that answers that one. Vince, I'm going to cut to the chase here. What you've done amounts to gross misconduct and makes your position as Chairman untenable. I am asking you to do the right thing and step down."

Vince raised both eyebrows and leaned back in his chair. "Is that so? Well, I believe that I have the right to a fair trial before being convicted of an offense, and we both know that I can afford the best legal team there is." He waved a hand to indicate the suits flanking him. "It could take years of legal wrangling to even get to court. Is Mr Galloway up to all of that?"

Drew's face was ashen. He looked at Paul, then at the lawyer, and nodded. Paul made a face as if he considered the options, then said: "That's a fair point, Vince, but you may want to think about dragging this through the courts. Especially when there are two people willing to bring charges against you."

Vince, Stephen and Drew all looked at Paul, confused. The Chairman brushed away his counsel, who had leaned in to speak in the Chairman's ear, and demanded "Two? Who the fuck is the other one?"

Paul raised his eyebrows. "You mean you don't know? How many guys have you been abusing, Vince?"

The Chairman's face contorted with rage and started to turn red. "Don't you start fucking with me, you putrid little shit. I'll fucking eat you for breakfast…"

Paul raised up a hand. "Now now, Vince. Let's keep this civil. We're family, remember? Speaking of family…" he gave a nod to one of the members of his team, who stood up and went to the door. When the door opened in walked Shane McMahon, with John Hennigan following behind. The two Celts' eyes went wide. What the hell was JoMo doing here? Shane sat John next to Stephen, and the three wrestlers gave each other a nod in acknowledgement.

Vince's face had gone from shock to confusion and slowly back to rage. "What the hell is _he_ doing here? He is no longer an employee of this company. I do not want that pothead in my fucking building."

John looked the Chairman in the eye. "Nice to see you too, Mr McMahon. Or do you still want me to call you '_Daddy_'?" The two Celts' jaws dropped in unison and Vince's face went crimson.

"I don't know what the fuck it is you're smoking these days, Hennigan, but it's obviously addled your brain." Vince turned to Shane. "And you. How dare you turn on me like this? How could you believe this bullshit about your own father?"

Shane replied. "Oh I've known about this for years, Dad. It's why I left the company. I couldn't work here knowing you were scouring for fuck toys as much as for talent. It made me sick. I could have dealt with it more if you had at kept it to the ones who went along with it, but then you started forcing straight guys to bend over for you. It was too much. I had to leave."

Vince was stunned into silence and his counsel whispered into his ear. "You can't prove any of this" the Chairman finally said. "There's no proof I laid a hand on Hennigan, or anyone else. It's my word against his, and everyone knows he's a druggie."

Shane pursed his lips. "That's not precisely true, Dad. You see, one of the times that you… were with John I happened to walk into the locker room looking for you. I saw everything. So, I could actually testify against you."

There was a heavy silence in the room for a few moments, until the Chairman spoke, quietly. "You wouldn't do that to me, Shane. I'm your father."

Shane nodded. "True, but I also stand to inherit almost half of this company when you go. Paul gets another quarter. Let's face it, Dad, you've been more of a hindrance than a help to this company lately. I think it's time you let the next generation take the helm." He and the COO gave Vince a direct stare and the Chairman's counsel rubbed his face before leaning in to speak in his ear again. The Chairman balled his fists before glaring at the three wrestlers sat at the end of the table, then at his son and son-in-law.

"This company will be nothing without me. I hope it folds before you all rot in hell."


	10. Chapter 10

Stephen, Drew and John Hennigan were drinking coffee in a reception room at Titan Towers. They were being given a chance to wind down after the high emotion of the meeting which had just taken place. They talked at first about non-committal things, such as John's workout program and common friends he'd recently worked with on the independent circuit. Eventually the elephant in the room became too much to ignore, and Drew breached the subject.

"John, please tell me if you don't want to talk about it, but did Vince really... do that to you, too? What he did to me?"

John lowered his eyes and played with his mug. "Yeah. For about a year. I'm ashamed to admit it but I was kind of glad when you showed up, because when he took a shine to you he started to leave me alone."

Stephen stiffened. "Well tha's a fine thing te feckin' say. Throw Drew to the wolves without a feckin' word o' warnin'…"

Drew raised a hand towards his lover. "No. No, Stephen, it's okay. I understand. If I had been in his shoes I would have felt the same thing. Anything is preferable to having to go through that, even if it means someone else has to suffer."

John looked up at Drew with tears in his eyes. "You don't know what it means to me to hear you say that. I would have understood if you hated my fucking guts, you have the right to."

Drew shook his head. "Vince is the one I hate. He's the one who did this to us. He's the one I want to die slowly and burn in hell. Not you." John's lower lip curled upwards and Drew leaned over to take him in an embrace. The two held each other for a good couple of minutes, finding comfort and solidarity. Stephen watched with a mixture of warmth and pain, glad that Drew had someone who could share his experience and sad that there was more than one victim of Vince's predatory appetite.

When the two men separated Stephen found a box of tissues and John blew his nose. Drew rested a hand on his shoulder and wiped away a tear of his own. John let out a sardonic laugh. "Vince kept going on about me being a pothead. Fact is that I used to smoke more in order to deal with the pain of what he was doing to me. Little did I know I was handing him the reason he would eventually fire me for." He shook his head and looked at Drew. "He used to taunt me about you. Purposely made me drop the Intercontinental title to you as a way of letting me know that you were his new favourite. He wanted me to work harder to gain his affection in order to reclaim my spot. When I didn't, he fired me. I still don't know whether I should hate you or thank you."

Drew sighed and nodded. "I can understand that. You lost your job with the WWE but got away from that monster. It's a debate I've been having with myself for the longest time on which would be the lesser evil." He looked at Stephen. "It's only been my friends that have kept me here. That have kept me from going insane." The Irishman put his hand on his lover's shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.

John asked "Did you ever tell anyone? I threatened to but Vince would always tell me he'd make it out that I was a fag and trying to blackmail him. I felt like a coward but couldn't figure a way out of it. It would have been my word against his."

Drew's face dropped. "Yes, I told one person. The one person I should have been able to tell everything to: my wife."

Stephen looked at Drew in shock. "Ah never knew tha'. Taryn _knew_?"

Drew nodded. "Oh yes. She knew. It's what started the fight. She told me she didn't want to be married to a 'gayboy faggot', I wasn't a man and that I disgusted her."

John and Stephen made sounds of disbelief and revulsion. How Taryn could have reacted in such a cold and self-centred way was surprising, even though Stephen was no fan of the woman. He shook his head and gave Drew's shoulder a squeeze, even more determined to show him what real love was. John said "Man, that's rough. You deserve better. I hope you find that, someday."

Drew looked at Stephen, who looked back at his lover. The Irishman looked John square in the eye and said: "Ah hope to be."

John looked confused for a minute, then his eyes widened and he looked from one Celt to the other in quick succession. "Whoa! Oh, wow. I had no idea. Well, um. Congrats!"

Drew and Stephen grinned and the Scotsman said: "Sorry for just dropping it on ya like that; but yeah, Stephen and I are more than just friends. We could use it staying between us, though, ya know what I mean?"

John nodded. "Oh, fuck yeah. This whole thing needs to stay inside these walls, don't cha think?" The two Celts nodded and at that moment Paul and Shane entered the room.

"How are you guys doing?" asked the COO.

Drew answered. "We've actually had a pretty good chat. Turns out we have quite a bit in common."

Paul nodded. "Well you guys are free to go whenever you want. If you don't want to fly back tonight get a hotel. Either way put in your receipts as business expenses. Vince will be tending in his resignation officially tomorrow morning, so it'll be a new regime from then on. We'll need you guys to keep your lips sealed for legal reasons, though." The three nodded in agreement and stood to shake hands with Paul and Shane before saying their goodbyes and heading out.

Drew and Stephen decided to take up the offer of a hotel and fly back to Florida the next day as it had been a long couple of days already. When they arrived at their room Drew flopped on the bed while Stephen, again on his insistence, carried their bags. The Irishman observed his lover for a moment until Drew looked up at him. "What are you staring at, hmm?"

Stephen smiled. "Ah happen to be looking at a gorgeous fella, who ah love very much."

The corner of Drew's mouth turned up in a grin. "Well, you'd better come here and do something about it, then." Stephen laughed softly, then walked over to the bed and leaned over and planted his fists on the bed, holding himself over his lover as Drew sat up for a kiss. They explored each other's mouths, one tongue chasing the other and their lips locking. Stephen reached up to run his fingers through Drew's hair, but stopped himself, remembering what had happened the night before. He looked in his lover's eyes, who looked back, concerned.

"What's wrong?"

The Irishman thought a moment, then stood up, holding his hands out. "Come 'ere. Stand up." Drew took his lover's hands and allowed himself to be lifted off the bed. He stood in front of him, confused and still looking apprehensive. Stephen kissed him again, which helped Drew relax. They then stripped each other, taking the chance to place kisses and licks on any exposed flesh within reach. When they were both fully naked and stood before each other Stephen took Drew's hands again, then proceeded to manoeuvre him back onto the bed, but with himself underneath.

Drew smiled. "What's all this, then?"

Stephen looked into his lover's face. "Ah want yeh te feel safe, so ah want yeh te be in charge. Yer callin' the shots tonight."

Drew took a breath, then cupped a hand on his lover's cheek. He leaned in and gave him a deep, passionate kiss, and began gyrating his hips against Stephen's groin. The Irishman groaned and reached up to grasp Drew's ass, but the Scot reached down, took hold of his wrists, and brought them up forcefully above his head, pinning them to the bed. Stephen grinned, knowing that his lover was taking advantage of the situation and getting some payback, which was fair enough. He'd let him have his fun, he deserved it; and he himself was enjoying it so far anyway. Drew used the leverage he had on Stephen's wrists to grind himself into his pelvis even more, and the Irishman closed his eyes and sucked in his breath at the sensation.

Drew smiled at the effect he was obviously having on his lover, and decided to up the ante. He leaned down and said, in a forceful tone: "Do **not** move" before releasing Stephen's wrists just long enough to pull a pillowcase off and use it to tie them together. When the Irishman was bound to his satisfaction he stood up and said "Come here." Stephen sat up and stood in front of Drew, his bound wrists in front of him. Drew pointed to the floor and Stephen, chuckling, dropped to his knees. The Scot stepped in close and Stephen ran his tongue over his smooth cock, licking up and down the shaft and flicking the tip along the ridge of his head. He massaged Drew's balls with his bound hands and watched as his lover closed his eyes and threw his head back in ecstasy. Stephen then took the rigid member into his mouth and sucked on it vigorously. A moan erupted from Drew's throat as the Irishman slurped at his cock, shadowing his mouth with a fist, encompassing the Scot's full length. Soon Drew reached down and said "Stop, enough. I don't want to come just yet."

He helped Stephen back to his feet and laid him back on the bed. It was then Drew's turn to make Stephen squirm. He took the Irishman's cock in his mouth and proceeded to work his magic. He opened his throat and took the full length of him in, bobbing his head at a heady pace, making it difficult for Stephen to maintain control. He stopped himself from reaching for Drew's hair by placing his bindings behind his own head, which helped him watch what his lover was doing. He concentrated on keeping his own breath as steady as possible and gritted his teeth to stop from coming, and mercifully Drew pulled away before Stephen lost the battle. The Scot looked up at him, stroking his cock languidly, and said "Are you willing to give me everything tonight?"

Stephen took a breath, looked deep into his lover's eyes, and nodded. Drew gave him a kiss on the thigh, then shuffled down and spread his thighs. Stephen laid his head down and closed his eyes. Drew spread the Irishman's muscular cheeks and ran the tip of his tongue along the puckered ring nestled between them. Stephen sucked in his breath at the touch and fought the urge to lift his hips. Drew worked his tongue along the rim and eventually nudged the tip inside. Stephen flexed his fingers and moaned at the strange sensations that were overwhelming him. Drew spat onto the puckered ring and gently worked a finger into the tight channel. Stephen squeezed his eyes shut and cursed in Gaelic, but under Drew's deft touch he slowly began to relax and curse in a much softer tone.

Drew spat again and entered a second finger into Stephen. The Irishman turned the air blue but it didn't take as long this time for him to relax again and begin to moan in pleasure. Drew worked his fingers to stretch out the virgin passage and added more saliva to ease the manipulations. When Stephen appeared relaxed and ready Drew crawled up to his knees. He lined himself up at Stephen's entrance, then very slowly began to penetrate. The Irishman squeezed his eyes shut and Drew could feel his whole body tense. "Relax, babe. I won't hurt you." Stephen opened his eyes to look at Drew, nodded and slowed his breathing. The Scot could feel him slowly start to loosen up and resumed gently entering him, taking his time and allowing his lover to acclimatise.

Gradually Drew was able to sheathe himself fully, and he rotated his hips to maximise the sensation for both of them. Stephen had his eyes closed and his mouth open, lost in the new experience. Drew then pulled out slightly before plunging back in, drawing a groan from his lover's lips. He repeated the motion, withdrawing more and pushing in deeper this time, and Stephen brought his bound hands up to clasp at Drew's chest. He then started a regular, rhythmic pumping, sending Stephen into a tailspin. The Irishman cursed and called out Drew's name as he fucked the pale, muscular arse. The Scot grabbed Stephen's hips and lifted him up, stepping one leg over and driving in even more deeply. The Irishman was reduced to a gibbering mess and begged Drew for more.

"Get on your knees." Drew turned his lover over and got him onto his hands and elbows. He carefully entered him again from behind, then hooked one leg over and drove in from a high angle. Stephen started to fall apart as his prostate was directly impacted with every stroke and Drew could feel his lover near his peak. He reached around and took Stephen's cock in his hand, stroking the head as he continued to thrust. The Irishman let out a final, loud curse as he came in several waves all over the bed. Drew pumped furiously and the constrictions of Stephen's body were enough to push him over the edge, and he let out a cry as he, too, met his release.

The two collapsed, exhausted, on the bed, still entwined. They lay there a minute, panting, until Drew finally kissed Stephen's shoulder and withdrew. Stephen let out a moan and turned over to look at his lover. "Feckin' hell, love. Yeh didn' tell me it was good as all tha'!" The two laughed and wrapped each other in loving arms.


End file.
